Our Deliverance
by GumbyandPokey
Summary: Maura faces a personal choice that could drive a wedge between her and Jane. Can their relationship survive?  Copyright: Don't own them, no infringement intended, just borrowing.   Rating: T for now, M later
1. Chapter 1

Maura sat in her black BMW Z4 Roadster, parked near the curb of a smaller South Boston home, just as she had for the last ten minutes. The car was clearly stood out in the older neighborhood, where young families who couldn't afford such a luxurious automobile lived with their young families. The fact that Maura had drawn the attention of several of the young mothers playing outside with their children went unnoticed by her given her level of anxiety.

The house was plain; there were no distinguishing factors from the others lining the street. In fact, it was landscaped nearly identically to every other house on the smaller block, full trees that were beginning to lose their leaves since it was mid-Fall and several burning bushes that had already changed into a vibrant red color. She instantly noticed the mulch color had faded and weeds were growing in parts of the lawn and could have simply been treated with a strong weed killer. The small clumps of grass that poked up from the spaces in the driveway were oddly comforting despite it being a glaring clue that the house needed some serious TLC.

Maura took a deep breath, trying to calm the anxiety that had been steadily climbing since she received the phone call that brought her to this moment. Her mind was racing with facts about South Boston, how it is becoming an increasingly desirable area for young professionals and their families to live but was once a predominantly Irish Catholic community. This fact made it hardly shocking that Patrick Doyle lived in South Boston, in the very home that Maura was now in front of.

"How could the police not find him when he lives right in front of their faces?" Maura mumbled to herself as she exited the car and locked it for good measure.

Her designer heels clicked on the pavement as she wrapped her trench coat around her tighter. She knocked softly, twice, before the front door was opened by someone she had never seen before. Maura reminded herself that Patrick Doyle surrounded himself with employees of his crime organization, yet somehow it seemed intrusive to her that they were in his house. She hadn't expected that. The young man stepped aside, no words exchanged, and merely pointed in the direction of the first room on the right.

Maura stiffened her posture, ensuring her shoulders were back as she held her head high, and journeyed toward the room she was certain had once been a living room. The homes in this area were all quite similar and she had been in a few of them on duty as the Chief Medical Examiner. This room, however, was set up very differently. Instead of what Maura expected to encounter in the way of furniture, the room housed a hospital bed. What was more alarming was the individual who lay in it.

"No zip ties and kidnapping this time?" Maura made no effort to hide her anger toward Patrick Doyle.

Sweat gathered on Patrick Doyle's face, journeying down his neck and disappearing into his plain white t-shirt. His head was propped up by several pillows and Maura was slightly shocked to see him in such a physical state.

"I got the message last time; it wasn't high on your list of acceptable behaviors." Patrick Doyle mustered a weak smile toward his daughter, meeting her hazel eyes with his own. "I've heard of a phone obviously."

"I was rather surprised you used one to contact me." Maura placed her purse on the table next to Patrick Doyle's bed and squinted at him, taking in his physical symptoms. There was no obvious wound, no reddish-brown stains on the sheets indicating he was bleeding yet his color was pasty and characteristic of someone who would have had significant blood loss.

"Desperate times…."

Maura paused for a moment, expecting the rest of the popular saying to fall out of Patrick Doyle's mouth. When it didn't, she pressed on.

"What makes them desperate?"

Patrick Doyle struggled to sit straighter, to preserve some dignity as he talked to his only daughter, but it made him break into a fit of coughing and additional sweat beaded up on his forehead.

"Easy." Maura helped her father despite herself; straightening his pillows and stepping back once he was settled.

"I think you know why I'm desperate."

"I'd rather hear it from you," Maura said, arching her eyebrow to challenge her father. "I don't like to guess."

"I know you don't have to guess."

"Obviously you're ill," Maura began, placing her cool hand over Patrick Doyle's forehead. "You're perspiring, but not from a fever, so likely you're experiencing a high level of pain for some reason. I see no apparent wounds or blood stains near you that would indicate an injury." Maura walked around the bed taking in her surroundings and Patrick Doyle remained silent, awaiting her diagnosis. "Care to tell me what illness you seem to have contracted?"

"Cancer," Patrick Doyle stated clearly, "of the terminal kind."

"That is rather painful." Maura's voice remained neutral, but Patrick Doyle took comfort in the fact that her eyes portrayed sadness. Even if it were pity, any emotion from his only daughter other than anger was a blessing.

"I found out two months ago, stage four stomach cancer, and it's been a battle ever since."

Maura sat on the edge of Patrick Doyle's bed, her disposition softening as he began to talk to her about his medical condition.

"I've got to be honest; I thought someone would kill me before I contracted a terminal disease." Maura scowled at her father; he was clearly trying to minimize his condition but his eyes gave him away.

"How long?"

"I was hoping you'd tell me?"

"It's impossible for me to know without seeing your medical file along with your test results, blood results, prior medical conditions," Maura began as she pulled his covers up, absentmindedly tucking him into bed further. "I would need to know what treatment you're taking, frequency, drug dosage…"

"None," Patrick Doyle's words cut Maura off mid-sentence. "I'm not being treated."

"You've opted to forego treatment?" Maura was surprised at this admission. "I know that traditional chemotherapy has many negative side effects, but treatments are advancing everyday that make those manageable or _negligible_ and there are always the more unconventional treatments coming out of Europe."

Maura tensed when her father's hand covered her own on his bed. His skin color and consistency was much different than her own.

"There is surgery, did you know that you could actually have a complete gastrectomy and still live? Depending on what type of tumor you have and whether or not it there are traces of a metastasis. You can use Gleevec and Sutent rather effectively."

"I opted out of treatment." Patrick Doyle handed Maura his medical file as she lifted her hand from under his to peruse it. "Maybe this is karma, getting revenge on me for what I've done. It seems fitting to be in pain and dying for some reason."

"Everyone deserves a chance at redemption."

"I can't very well walk into a hospital for treatment, Maura," Patrick Doyle closed his eyes as he spoke. "I'm one of the FBI's most wanted. If I walk into a hospital for treatment I'll die in jail. Maybe I have no right to want something different after some of the things I've done, _chosen_ to do, but the selfish asshole in me wants to die in peace at my home."

It was not lost on Maura that Patrick Doyle used exactly the words she had used, that he had _chosen_ his life, the last time they had spoken. It seemed that he had taken to heart her feedback, zip ties and all, and it had an odd influence on her.

"So this is about getting treatment." Maura stood up suddenly realizing what Patrick Doyle had called her for. "You want me to treat you? I'm not a practicing Oncologist Mr. Doyle, I am a Pathologist." Maura recognized her own voice rising to a dangerous level and took a breath to calm down. "I'm not qualified or equipped to treat stage four stomach cancer."

"I want to be comfortable," Patrick said, desperation lacing his voice. "I'm not asking for another chance, just some humility so I can rest in peace until the inevitable happens. I want to be comfortable."

"Hospice makes people comfortable…"

"Not when you're a known Irish crime boss it doesn't," Patrick said suddenly feeling nauseous. "I can't bring someone into the house that doesn't know me already. I'm not interested in corrupting someone else; I just want to be comfortable."

"I can't make you comfortable without the proper medication," Maura reasoned with him.

"If you tell me what you need, I'll get it for you."

"You're asking me to deliberately hide you from the police." Maura raked her hands through her long, golden hair. "You're asking me to hide you from my friends."

"Ah yes, Boston's finest homicide crew."

"I have a duty to protect people from criminals." Maura felt her anger rising as Patrick Doyle dismissed her unit. "There's a reason I didn't call you to tell you Colin's killer. My life is very black and white Mr. Doyle; there is a difference between right and wrong."

"And I protected you anyway," Patrick Doyle shot back. "And stop calling me Mr. Doyle like you have no idea who I am!"

Maura had never witnessed Patrick Doyle's anger. In fact, in her interactions with him he was rather collected and calm. This was a side she had no idea how to interact with.

"I don't know you," Maura said softly. "Even though you've followed me throughout my life I had no inclination that you were even there. I only know about you now because my half-brother showed up on my table and frankly the one thing I asked of you, you refused. I never asked you to protect me from Tommy O' Rourke."

"And yet I did it anyway," Patrick's voice was weaker now as he was growing tired.

"Why?" Maura demanded. "I sometimes wonder how that all happened. Who called you?"

"Does it matter now?"

"It does to me," Maura admitted quietly. "I have to know; was it Jane?"

"Ah," Patrick Doyle opened his eyes and offered Maura a rather warm smile at the mention of Jane Rizzoli. "Detective Jane Rizzoli, hero cop who shot herself when the drug siege happened at police headquarters. The two of you are very close; she is very good at what she does."

"Was it her?"

"No." Patrick Doyle held Maura's piercing gaze to ensure she understood he was telling her the truth. "Why would you think it was her?"

"I had to know," Maura said breaking eye contact with her father. "But now that I have that answer, which is why I really came in the first place, I need to leave and get back to work."

"I need your help," Patrick Doyle sounded desperate once more.

"I'd be risking everything," Maura snapped as she stopped her progression out of the room. "I am now, hiding a fugitive who can't even go into a hospital for treatment because you know you'd be arrested on sight. You're asking me to turn my back on what is right and wrong. I can't administer drugs to you either, before you even ask."

"Once I'm gone, you'll be safer. She'll be safer…." Maura knew instinctively that Patrick Doyle was referring to her birth mother and it garnished the appropriate attention when Maura placed her purse down on the bed to continue the conversation.

"My birth mother?"

"Yes," he groaned before squirming in pain.

"So you'll tell me who my birth mother is?"

"I can't until I'm almost gone and it becomes public that I've died, and then there will be no threat of harm coming to her or you. Nobody can use you to get to me, it will be too late. You both will be at peace and I'll have some version of that myself."

"And what about the people whose lives you've turned upside down by killing them or selling their kids drugs? When do they find peace?"

"Is that what this is about? You're unwilling to help me in my last few weeks because I've hurt people? Not all those people were good, Maura, I've killed a lot of people, but they weren't upstanding citizens either."

"My job is to be the voice for those that end up on my table, the dead can't talk."

"If you want to bring peace to those people," Patrick Doyle began, then closed his eyes knowing he was about to make the biggest decision of his remaining few weeks, "I will give you enough information from my organization to do that. I'll even give you your mother's name and address; she's well kept even after all these years. All I am asking in return is that you keep me comfortable until the end."

Maura stood and grabbed her purse, slinging the designer bag over her shoulder once more. She paused, not certain of what her response should be in this situation. It was hardly something that she ever thought she would be involved in.

"I need some time to think about it," Maura said, clenching her jaw.

"I don't have a lot of it; I just want the time I do have to be comfortable."

"Anyone can give you drugs, Mr. Doyle."

"Not the right kind in the right amount. I don't just trust anyone, Maura. It's how I've managed to stay alive all these years."

"That's not all of it."

"Is it wrong for me to want to know you, for you to know me, before it's too late?"

Maura still had those words floating through her head when she agreed to contact him tomorrow with her answer. She had waited her entire life to meet her birth mother, and it appeared this would be the only way. Patrick Doyle was the only person that could connect them, not to mention the amount of cold files she could help Jane solve just by simply going through the paperwork he promised to provide her.

Maura got into her car and started the sporty BMW's engine. Would her friends, specifically Jane, see the opportunity as a positive rather than Maura helping a known fugitive of the law? Images of Jane flashed through Maura's mind and suddenly she felt rather ill. They had argued the last time Doyle came up, Jane actually considered tipping Patrick Doyle off to Colin's murderer in an effort to protect Maura. It was Maura that had insisted it was wrong, and once Tommy O' Rourke had been killed it never came up again. Maura smiled, now knowing just how much she trusted Jane, how honest her friend could be.

Maura pulled away from the curb, oblivious to the car parked down the street watching Patrick Doyle's house. The two gentleman in the car certainly had their interest peaked when the BMW had pulled up to the curb. The woman was nowhere near the usual type of person that frequented the house. Something told them both that the woman was special.

Maura slowly passed the car, eyes focused on the road, and completely unaware of her picture being taken. Now that the two gentlemen had her face captured, it was only a matter of time before they knew her identity as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Maura sat in her office, reviewing the toxicology report on Jane's latest case. It was a young woman, late thirties, with obvious signs of drug abuse. Jane had looked at all the needle marks, making the foregone conclusion that she had died of a drug overdose. Despite agreeing that the signs were clear, Maura ran her standard toxicology panel and reviewed it diligently. She picked up her office phone and dialed Jane's extension by memory.

"Rizzoli."

"I have your toxicology reports on Eva Wilson," Maura said, signing the bottom of the paperwork before placing it in her file outbox. "The toxicology reports are affirmative for long-term drug abuse."

"Which one?" Jane did nothing to hide her amusement as she leaned back in her chair with a smile on her face.

"Specifically benzoylmethylecgonine," Maura said closing her eyes to ward off her pending headache. "She had roughly triple the amount in her blood stream that her heart, considering her weight and height, could tolerate."

"So she went on a bender with cocaine is what you're telling me." Jane rocked back and forth in her chair as she contemplated what Maura's payoff would be for their friendly wager at the crime scene. "I suggest we settle this non-homicide with a beer at The Robber."

"I certainly won't be imbibing in malt beverages tonight."

"They have wine there," Jane defended her favorite hang-out against Maura's judgment. "I know you think the reds are chalky but let's get crazy and you can try a white."

"Are you coming to get this report or am I going to have to send it up with someone?"

Jane arched her eyebrow, her instincts immediately activated at the tone of Maura's voice.

"I shall be down momentarily, Dr. Isles." Jane laughed as the exasperated sigh came from the opposite end of the phone. Jane hung up before Maura could respond, interested in interrogating her friend about her reason for declining the offer for a drink in person.

Jane pushed the down button for the elevator, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waited for it to arrive. Jane felt a sense of excitement. Whatever was keeping Maura from joining her at The Robber had to be important; she had never refused an offer to join Jane for a drink.

The elevator chimed, signaling to Maura that someone was entering her floor. She knew it would be Jane, so she didn't bother to look up from the file that she was signing or the piles of others that surrounded her on her desk.

"Drivin' that train, high on cocaine," Jane started singing causing Maura to whip her head up quickly and stare at her friend as if she were from an alternate universe. "Casey Jones you better watch your speed…" Maura shook her head, placing her pen down to stare at Jane. "Casey Jones, Maura,…..Grateful Dead…please tell me you know the Grateful Dead."

"I hardly think that a person would be grateful to be dead, Jane."

"If I take this lovely file off your hands," Jane paused as she picked up Eva Wilson's file waiving it in the air, "and agree never to mention the bet you just lost, could I convince you to have a drink with me?"

"I can't tonight, Jane." Maura massaged her temples.

"Headache?"

"Minor," Maura admitted as she closed her eyes and leaned back in her office chair. "I have a lot on my mind. It's common for headaches to occur under stress. They are medically known as tension headaches but the common vernacular for them is stress headaches."

"I've never known you to get a headache."

"I usually don't." Maura regarded Jane as she began to analyze Maura's stature, her investigative skills quickly taking over.

"Jane, please." Maura waived her hand in front of her own face to break Jane's concentration. "It's a headache, and certainly not chronic since you, yourself pointed out that I hardly get them." Maura rose and perched herself on the corner of her desk folding her arms against her chest. "The pain is consistent with a tension headache since I'm experiencing throbbing in the front of my head but still have my vision, balance, and strength."

"Thank you for your shortened lesson on headaches. Dr. Isles," Jane said, approaching Maura like a suspect she was about to interrogate. "Would you care to tell me what has you experiencing tension headaches, Maura?" Maura ignored Jane's inflection at the words tension and headache.

"I told you, just a lot on my mind."

"Would you care to talk about it?" Jane smiled to show her offer was genuine. "You can lie down on your designer Karim Rashid couch that cost more than a monthly car payment. I am sure it would be like lying on a cloud."

"Jane, that is a collector's item for Karim Rashid, it's his orgy sofa, and some would consider it priceless. It is very popular in Brazil since that's where Karim is from."

"No matter how good you are," Jane started laughing as she folded herself into Maura's office couch, "_two_ people couldn't have sex on this let alone an orgy."

"What were you down here for again?" Maura smiled as Jane's eyes met her own.

"To convince you to go with me for a drink, but you seem to have a tension headache." Jane placed her feet back on the floor and leaned forward to continue the conversation. "So if you would just tell me what's on your mind, I can solve your issues and still have enough time to grab two beers rather than just one."

"How loving and caring of you." Maura's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I want to help you, Maura; if I help you help me, than don't we both win?"

"You can lift the bottle to your lips on your own, Detective. You've never needed my help to drink a beer."

Jane regarded her friend carefully, seeing the tension in her posture and fidgeting.

"All kidding aside, if you need to talk I'm here."

"Jane," Maura sat down next to her friend after crossing her office slowly, "is your life black and white?"

"Is this another jab at my...oh what did you call it? Less than stellar array of colors in my wardrobe?" Jane's use of her fingers in air quotes made Maura smile.

"I wasn't referring to the limited colors you have in your preferred color palate," Maura argued back, rolling her eyes as Jane smiled at her. "I was referring to how you live your life. Is it always completely clear cut?"

"In what way?"

"The difference between right and wrong," Maura began to tick off her thoughts on her delicate fingers. "The line between good and bad, who falls on what side of that line?"

"That's such a complex question." Jane leaned back exhaling, truly just wanting to grab a drink after work with her friend instead of engaging in such a heavy discussion. "I think in my line of work a person has to be clear about that line."

"It can just be that clear cut for you?"

"Need I remind you about Marino and what happens when you're a cop and aren't clear about that line?" The mere mention of his name made the scar on Jane's abdomen itch.

"And yet when Colin was killed, you were willing to throw it all away to have my_ sperm donor _protect me?"

"I abided by your wishes, Maura," Jane squinted, her gaze boring into Maura's face as if she were under interrogation. "What's this about?"

"I just don't know if I believe that things are always so black and white. Life is full of shades, Jane, and the choices we have to make are scattered throughout the rabge. It can be confusing."

Jane opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her cell phone ringing from the case that held it on her hip. She held up her finger to indicate to Maura they weren't done, but that she had to take the phone call.

"Rizzoli." Jane paused as she listened to Frost discuss a lead on another case that was open and demanded her attention. "Let's go play our favorite, good cop, black cop then. I'll be right up."

Jane flipped her phone shut, pausing briefly before laying her hand on Maura's leg.

"I don't claim to know how everyone lives, Maura, but I have to always be cognizant of that line that tells me what's wrong and what's right. Maybe the line is different for other people, more blurred or more to the right or left on the spectrum, but it's there. That's how we know bad guys like the ones upstairs and good guys like us. I want to continue this and find out why you're asking me this…"

"You've got a case." Maura forced a smile and stood to match Jane as she rose to her feet. "I've got files for another two hours before I can get out of here. We can talk tomorrow."

"Call me later if you aren't feeling better." Jane walked toward the door before turning around to face her best friend. "I was serious when I said that I wanted to help, Maura. Whatever is bothering you I want you to know that you can talk to me."

"Thanks." Maura watched as Jane left the morgue before sitting in her chair. She rubbed her temples as she envisioned herself telling Jane that Doyle had contacted her, asking for her help and that she was actually considering giving it. Not necessarily because it was her father, but because she wanted so desperately wanted to meet her birth mother and this seemed like the means to an end.

Maura picked up her phone and dialed Angela, knowing that she would worry if Maura wasn't with Jane and coming in late. She smiled when Jane's mother picked up her phone and greeted her warmer than her own adoptive mother ever had. She silently wondered if her birth mother would be more like Constance Isles or Angela Rizzoli, painfully aware of her preference.

"Angela, it's Maura. I didn't want you to worry, but I'll be out late tonight."

"And you're calling me to check in?" Maura could just hear how happy Angela was that she was taking her into consideration. "Do you even know when the last time was that one of my own children checked in with me?"

"I'm certain that they…"

"No need to always stick up for them, Dr. Isles," Angela continued despite Maura being in mid-sentence. "Are you going out on a date? Is it wrong that I asked that?"

Maura smiled and allowed a small chuckle to escape her lips.

"Nothing like that, I need to check on a few things, but finish this mountain of work here beforehand. I just didn't want you to be concerned later on tonight."

"Well don't stay too late," Angela said as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear to write down a customer's order in the police cafeteria. "You know I always tell you and Jane that you have to take some time for yourself or you'll go nuts but it is nuts in Boston! Just a bunch of crazy people!"

"Have a good day, Angela, and I'll try to be home as soon as I can."

After hanging up with Angela, Maura walked to her office door and slowly closed it. The click of the lock turning seemed to echo in the silence of the morgue. Maura was conscious of the fact that she had never locked her door in all the time she had worked there. She sighed, already seeing a change in her behavior based on her interaction with Patrick Doyle.

Maura sat back down and dug a small cellular phone out of her purse. It had appeared in a non-descript package on her doorstep this morning.

"I thought you'd never call." Patrick Doyle's voice was horse; he picked it up on the first ring, which surprised Maura.

"I keep my word." Maura made no attempt to hide her aggression toward Doyle. "And so will you. I'll help you remain comfortable; but before the inevitable happens you will tell me who my birth mother is."

"I keep my word too, Maura. I have to in this business, it's the only way people trust you and follow your orders."

"This isn't an order, this is my choice." Maura waited for what she was certain would be a compelling argument coming from her birth father, but nothing was said. She could only hear him breathing, slightly out of breath. "Are you having trouble breathing?"

"The pain," Patrick Doyle muttered as Maura searched within her purse for her car keys.

"I'm on my way." Maura grabbed a stack of files as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear. "When I get there and examine you better, I'll have a list of supplies I'll need to help."

Maura closed the phone, grabbed her purse and medical bag, and unlocked the door ready to face Patrick Doyle once more. She bit her lower lip as her thoughts drifted to Jane, whether Jane would understand or not, and she quickly shook her head to focus.

"I have to do something for me," Maura muttered as she pushed the button to call the elevator.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

As Maura again drove through the older neighborhood in South Boston, she ignored much of her surroundings. This visit she paid no attention to the detail of landscaping throughout the neighborhood, particularly the home of Patrick Doyle. She failed to observe just how noticeable her BMW sports car was in a neighborhood that was occupied by people with moderate incomes and the traditional 2.5 children. She also failed to notice that, once again, a rather impressive and expensive lens was capturing her picture as she walked from her car to the front door of Patrick Doyle's house.

"I'm here to see him," Maura stated simply. She stared at the young man leaning against the door jam with a lopsided grin on his face. He seemed genuinely happy to see her; puzzling Maura since she felt she wasn't there on social terms. Uncertain of his motives, she carefully stepped inside of the house and toward the makeshift bedroom of Patrick Doyle.

"He should be expecting me," Maura offered, and then cringed as she noticed how she was fidgeting with the ring on her finger. It was a trait of her biological father's that she had noticed immediately when he came to identify the body of his son, Colin. While her science told her that it was a nervous habit and highly unlikely to be genetic, she silently admonished herself for exhibiting the same trait as an Irish mobster.

Maura instantly felt overwhelmed by the silence of the house. What little noise there was came from the area of the kitchen, tempting Maura to peek in that direction to see just how many people were in the house. Those who were in the house were so obviously the trusted few among many at Patrick Doyle's disposal. Maura instantly felt the weight of her decision as she was seemingly being grouped into Doyle's inner circle.

"He's been a bit out of it," the young man said, stepping aside for Maura to fully enter the room. "He's been sick too."

"Sick as in vomiting?" The man nodded and Maura walked closer to Patrick Doyle's bed. She placed her purse on the bedside table as she watched him open his eyes in a cloud of confusion. "Drink this." Maura held out a cup of water with a straw to aide Patrick in drinking; it was clear he was now becoming more alert by the look in his eyes. "It should help your throat."

Maura looked around; not much had changed in the past twenty-four hours in Patrick Doyle's house but certainly she felt as if her world had been turned upside down overnight. Maura studied Patrick Doyle as he struggled to sit upright; to remain stoic even through what Maura assumed to be a high pain level.

"How is your pain on a scale from one to ten?"

"Thirteen." Patrick flinched when Maura's cool hand touched his forehead to gauge his fever. "Always been my lucky number."

"That's an interesting belief since most of society believes the number thirteen to be very unlucky, even if that belief is based largely on superstition and mythology." Maura turned her wrist to see the face of her watch, placing her fingers over Patrick Doyle's pulse on his wrist. "It is, however, a persistent belief. Even in today's Christian teachings, you can see that the number thirteen is actually associated with negativity. Judas, the disciple who betrayed Jesus was considered the thirteenth guest at the Last Supper."

"That's why one should keep a trusted few around them and not double digit numbers of them."

"Is that how you work, Mr. Doyle?"

"I seem to have forgotten all of my catechism lessons, Dr. Isles." Patrick Doyle began to cough prompting Maura to give him another sip of water. "But I do appreciate the refresher on the Last Supper."

"Or is it a lesson in betrayal, which seems fitting at this moment."

Maura removed her fingers from Patrick's wrist and carefully laid his arm down on the bed next to him. She looked around the room for a pen and paper, but quickly noticed just how barren the room was.

"I need a pen and paper," Maura said, staring her father in the eye refusing to yield to his stare. "I need to keep track of your vitals and to be able to write my list of what I need. It wouldn't be prudent for me to track your vitals on a Boston PD piece of equipment so we'll have to do it the old way."

"Michael will help you with whatever it is you need." Patrick made eye contact with the young man who had answered the door. He nodded, as if giving Maura full reign over the young man's actions.

Patrick Doyle closed his eyes as Maura moved away, sitting between her father's hospital bed and the exit of the house. She ignored the many chairs that were closer to him, purposefully and carefully thinking through her movements.

"Is it always going to be so much strategy for you, Maura?" Doyle was staring at her again, his breathing labored.

"Your life is about strategy, is it not?" Maura countered as Michael handed her a pad of paper and a pen. "I'm going to use this pad to keep track of your vitals. Who should I train to do the same when I'm not here, it must be monitored hourly."

"Michael," Patrick Doyle stated calmly as he took deep breaths to relax and channel his physical pain.

"And to whom should I give my list of supplies?"

"Michael."

"Does Michael do all your bidding these days?" Maura instantly felt horrible for not acknowledging the young man's presence and she turned to face him. "Are you going to be the person that I deal with on a daily basis?"

Michael looked at Patrick Doyle for confirmation, his posture becoming an odd mix of confidence and relaxation.

"He's the son I never had," Patrick Doyle answered with a voice laced in disappointment.

"You had a son," Maura responded, her voice laced with anger. "Remember Colin who ended up on _my_ autopsy table as a result of being your son?"

"Don't kid yourself, Maura; he wasn't a good kid like you are. Like I said back then, he was too much like his old man. That's what got him killed, the games and identity theft he got roped into, not because someone found out he was my son."

"I'll never understand your logic on family," Maura mumbled as she scribbled her notes down on the first sheet of paper. She flipped the page and began to work on her list of supplies; expense was no issue so she added things onto the list that she normally wouldn't ask for when caring for someone. If she was going to be blackmailed into this arrangement, she was determined to make it easier on herself with as many of the modern day conveniences as possible.

"It's actually quite simple how it works," Patrick coughed, breaking out into more of a sweat until he got control and took another sip of water to quiet the tickle that had returned. "You may think we're monsters but we live by a code, Maura. It's what keeps us alive and functioning."

"How nice for you."

Patrick instantly picked up on the blatant sarcasm dripping from Maura's voice.

Maura ripped off the list of supplies and handed it to an otherwise silent Michael and placed the notebook on her lap as she carefully considered what her next statement should be. "I find it odd that you like number thirteen; your disciples could easily betray you just as Judas did his leader. I should know up front if Michael is your Judas or your Peter?" Patrick stared at Maura contemplating his answer. "You're not the only one that has a lot riding on this _arrangement_ as you called it. I could lose a lot if this arrangement is discovered, Mr. Doyle."

"Ask him," Patrick retorted gruffly. "He can actually speak."

Maura cringed at the tone he used, but his point was well taken. Maura had come to the realization in a few short moments that her behavior when in Doyle's presence was starting to mimic his behavior and it frightened her.

"I'm sorry, Michael," Maura offered as she held his gaze. "Regardless of who you work for, I should have realized that I behaving quite rudely. Please accept my apologies."

Michael looked over at Patrick Doyle struggling to stay awake and motioned for Maura to step out into the hallway with him to continue their discussion.

"He would keep fighting to stay awake if we were talking in there." Michael, for the first time since Maura had met him, offered her a warm smile. "He's not as strong as he likes to think."

Maura smiled back, despite herself, and continued to silently remind herself that she was among the Irish mob, some of the very people she worked hard on a daily basis to try to bring to justice.

"I know how much it means to him that you're here."

"I'm here to find out who my biological mother is." Maura struggled to keep the tone of her voice steady and confident, not laced with anger no matter how accurately that would describe her emotions. "I have to be honest and tell you that if it weren't for him holding that over my head I wouldn't be here. I don't have the same ties to him that you do."

"I understand." Michael had a slight accent, almost as if he had stepped into Boston from Ireland. "I owe Paddy a lot though. I won't bore you with the details of how he saved my life back in the day."

"How ironic that he can save a life but makes a career out of ending them." Maura looked around the hallway; there was no sign of pictures, personal effects, nothing that would tie Patrick Doyle to this house or anyone in it. "How long have you worked for him?"

"Long enough to know him better than you do." Michael watched as Maura continued her perusal of what she could see of the house.

"That may very well be, but you can't force someone into getting to know another. I'm here because the person I want to know is being held over my head." Maura looked around further down the hall before turning on her designer heel to face Michael once more. "You don't happen to know who my mother is do you?"

"If I did," Michael smiled as he tucked Maura's list into the back pocket of his jeans, "I wouldn't tell you. I know how much Paddy loves you, even if you don't feel it or know it yourself. He wants a chance to get to know you."

"I'm afraid I don't share your optimism at how well that will go." Maura glanced at the clock on the wall. She had been there entirely too long; she needed to go home and rest knowing what lay ahead for her. "I need to go, but when I come tomorrow, I'll need you to be here. I need to train you to take his vitals every hour; it's important for the medication and to monitor his health."

"I'll be here." Michael's smile was alarming; normal as if he could have been anyone on the street having a pleasant conversation with Maura. But he wasn't; he was the employee of one of the biggest Irish mob bosses.

"Give him these two pills with plenty of water." Maura handed over a Ziploc bag with a handful of the pills in it. "These are nonsterodial anti-inflammatory pills. When he takes these, please watch for side effects. He'll need something stronger and I've put it on the list."

"The something stronger is morphine, correct?"

"That's most commonly used to treat cancer patients. If he lasts, he'll likely develop immunity to it. But we'll cross that bridge once we get there. Right now I just need that list; make sure he takes these pills spaced out every four hours. It will help manage the pain since he let it get away from him in the first place."

"Until tomorrow then?"

Maura nodded to Michael as she gathered her purse and made a quick exit from the house. She dug in her purse for her keys, noticing the blinking light on her cellular phone to indicate she had a message.

She entered her car and locked the doors before taking her phone out and seeing the text message from Jane. It was meant in jest; one last effort to get Maura to join her for a drink. The message had been sent over thirty minutes ago and Maura knew any response would peak the detective's interest since she hadn't answered right away as she normally would have.

_Finishing up here – tired and will take a rain check_

Maura began to drive her car out of the neighborhood heading for home when the subsequent text message traveled across her screen.

_You do realize that it's my job to catch inconsistencies in stories right?_

Maura stopped at a red light and debated whether to tell Jane or not. It was such a strong pull to tell her what was going on, yet the fear of her judgment quickly derailed that thought.

_Inconsistencies?_

Maura waited for Jane's response; clearly this wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

_You left before me despite this mountain of paperwork on your desk. You didn't take it with you._

Maura gave up the text game and quickly dialed Jane's number as traffic began to move once more.

"Hello?" Maura rolled her eyes as Jane's tone implied that she had no idea who would be calling her.

"I'm on my way home, Jane," Maura turned her car toward the other side of town and balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear to continue the conversation while placing two hands on the wheel.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

"Don't tease, Jane," Maura said as she maneuvered through traffic and focused on the driving conditions and not her annoyance with Patrick Doyle. "In all seriousness I'll take a rain check on warm malt beverages?"

"It isn't about the warm malt beverage that you just haven't tried enough to actually appreciate. It's the fact that you declined a night out with me for paperwork that you're not actually doing. What gives, Maura?"

"I was helping a sick…" Maura knew she couldn't lie. She didn't want to say friend knowing Patrick Doyle held no place in her heart. She couldn't very well tell Jane that it was Patrick Doyle, Jane would immediately insist that she stop and likely arrest her biological father before he would confess to Maura who her mother was and where she could find her. She stammered, finally deciding on the safest route to prevent her hyperventilating. "I was helping someone who is sick, Jane. I needed to check in on them."

Something in the sound of Maura's voice touched Jane's heart. It wasn't her words, although plausible, that gave Jane pause. So she waited for Maura to fill the silence she created, a tried and true interrogation technique that worked well for Jane.

"I would love to see you, honestly, but I'm just tired from having worked on paperwork all day and having not made a dent. It's been a really long day. I'll take a rain check on the malt beverage, but never on the company." Maura began pulling down her street when she slowed to a complete stop before making it to her driveway. Noticing the card in her driveway, her heart began beating and she licked her lips in anticipation of what was to come.

"Good thing I'm at your house keeping Ma company then," Jane replied as she walked by the window and saw Maura's car stopped in the street. "I'll see ya in a few and we can talk more about your _paperwork_."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Maura hesitantly walked through the front door of her own house, unable to hide the smile that graced her lips as she witnessed Jane sitting on her couch looking amazingly beautiful. The files that had once been piled on Maura's desk were sitting on her coffee table, currently being used as a footstool by Jane. Jane did nothing to hide her smirk as she sipped her beer maintaining eye contact with Maura.

"Welcome home." Jane's voice elicited a reaction that Maura didn't quite understand. It struck Maura that she felt safe, her walls could come down; this was Jane welcoming her home from a long day.

"Where's your mom?"

"Letting the sauce simmer while she goes to the store to get an onion."

"I had an onion." Maura picked up Jane's legs and held them so she could pass and sit next to her on the couch. She deliberately allowed Jane's feet to fall once more on the stack of paperwork landing with an unceremonious thud. Maura took her designer heels off; rubbing the arches of her feet after a long day.

"I refused to tell her that," Jane replied, arching her eyebrow in a mischievous way, making Maura chuckle. "I needed some time alone."

"Alone time?" Maura looked perplexed. "In my house? What kind of alone time are we speaking of, Jane?"

"I don't interrogate in front of others." Jane turned her shoulders to display body language that Maura could only classify as challenging. "And you, Dr. Isles, have a lot of explaining to do."

Maura felt her skin begin to flush and sat back, knowing anything she could say would only delay the inevitable.

"Please feel free," Maura said as she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing to remain calm.

"Where did you run off to, Dr. Isles, in such a hurry, that you forgot this mountain of paperwork?" Maura could just feel Jane's chocolate brown eyes glaring at her. "Which, by the way, I would like a _'thank you, Jane'_ for bringing it by. I just know how important it is since you declined an invitation for chalky red wine with me to be able to manage it all."

"That's sarcasm, right?" Maura grinned as she opened one eye to peer at Jane.

"I mean," Jane got up, setting her beer bottle down on the table sans a coaster much to Maura's dismay. "What's the big whoop, Maura?"

Maura laughed at the private joke between them. True to form Jane had used that saying more often than Maura cared to remember since the day she uttered it in Jane's living room.

"Are you cheating on The Robber?"

Maura's snort of laughter was answer enough for Jane to continue her line of questioning.

"Is there another Ian, named Stan perhaps, with a British accent and history of rescuing puppies and orphans that I don't know about?"

"There is no man to speak of," Maura smiled as Jane leaned down, meeting Maura's gaze as she inched closer to her face. Jane's strong hands were on either side of Maura's head bracing her weight on the couch. Maura closed her eyes briefly as Jane's unique scent overwhelmed her sense of smell for the briefest of moments before settling in as an old, familiar scent.

"So you say you were with a sick friend," Jane couldn't hide the playful smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Is this sick friend a new LLBFF then?"

"I'm sorry, Jane; I was going to tell you at recess on the playground tomorrow before you found out by note passing in homeroom." Maura beamed at her joke until Jane burst her bubble.

"You're mixing grade school with middle school, Dr. Isles. A decent attempt at distraction, but let's get back to your sick friend." Jane chuckled as she began to pace back and forth in front of Maura, wearing on Maura's remaining mental capacity.

"I wouldn't even classify them as a friend." Maura gasped as she completed the sentence, throwing her hand over her mouth to prevent admittance to anything. Jane turned on her instantly with a look that Maura would only classify as predatory.

"So this 'not friend'," Jane paused, using her fingers to make air quotes, knowing she had Maura right where she wanted her, "is more important that your LLBFF?"

"I didn't say that."

"Actions, Dr. Isles, they speak louder than words." As the two women stared at each other, Jane's phone began ringing on her hip.

"Louder than Frost's ringtone?" Maura laughed as Jane grunted, picking up her phone while signaling the conversation wasn't over.

"Yeah, Frost." Jane stopped pacing and bit her lower lip listening to her partner's recitation of the facts in their new case. "No, I'm here with Maura so I'll fill her in as we go." Jane hung up her phone and walked toward the stove, turning the sauce completely off. She searched for a pen and paper, leaving Angela a note that they'd be back as soon as they could from their crime scene and then turned to face Maura.

Maura instantly recognized Jane's facial expressions. Her orbiculars oris was tight and her buccinators flexed suggesting she was clenching her teeth.

"What is it?"

"We have a crime scene," Jane began as Maura got up and slipped her heels back on, struggling to keep up with Jane's long strides. "We're not sure, Maura, but it looks like….it's similar to…"

Maura yanked on Jane's arm before she was able to get into the car and spun her around to initiate eye contact. Jane's facial expressions showed more stress than moments ago.

"Tell me before I walk in blind, Jane."

"There's an ice pick sticking out of the vic's chest, Maura. I'm not sure you can prepare for that…"

Maura got into her car, but allowed Jane the duty of driving while she composed her thoughts. It was Paddy Doyle's signature MO. But Maura knew, with certainty, that Paddy Doyle was in no shape to commit a murder. Even getting out of bed would have debilitated him, and drifting in and out of a drug-induced stupor made it virtually impossible for him to direct others to do the work for him.

Jane remained silent until they pulled up to the crime scene and she saw Frost beginning to approach the car. Jane's voice broke through Maura's thoughts and ended the silence that was beginning to suffocate them both.

"You can call in Pike if you want." Jane laid a caring hand on Maura's thigh watching Maura's reaction to the suggestion she just made. "I know we teased you before about his OCD, but you gotta do what you gotta do, Maura."

"Let me look at the crime scene first," Maura offered Jane a weak smile before opening her door and accepting Frost's hand to steady her feet on the muddy ground.

"What do we have, Frost?" Jane met up with the other two in front of the BMW and the three friends walked together down near the shoreline where an area had been roped off.

"We've got a white male, early 40's, one witness running near the shore that says they saw the body wash up when the tide came in."

"Running in the dark?" Jane arched her eyebrow in disbelief before she felt Maura move closer to her side.

"It's common actually." Maura held onto Jane's arm as they began to walk in the sand toward the body. "When it's hot out, people usually run early in the morning or when the sun goes down. It keeps the body temperature manageable."

The body was facing up, the ice pick visible by the moonlight alone. Maura squinted as portable lights were turned on to help in the evidence gathering. She bent down, snapping her gloves into place, before removing the ice pick that was imbedded into the man's chest.

"Whatever was on this paper washed off." Maura dropped the blank photo paper into the evidence bag that Frost held open for her.

"There's no way we can distinguish footprints in the sand, there's just too many." Jane already felt exasperated by this case and it had only just begun.

"That's the point I'm sure," Korsak leaned forward and looked at the victim's face before looking back up at Jane. "The name is Sean Murphy; he's one of Paddy Doyle's boys."

"Paddy wouldn't kill his own would he?" Frost asked; new to the way the Irish mob worked.

"It's his signature," Jane pointed out as she squatted next to Maura who had been silently surveying the scene and body. "TOD, Maura?"

"I can't tell you until I get him back to the lab." Maura looked into Sean Murphy's face, she remembered seeing him the first day she had entered Patrick Doyle's South Boston home.

Maura knew that this couldn't be the work of her father. He simply wasn't in any shape to even plan such a thing, let alone carry it out.

Maura placed the ice pick into another evidence bag and handed it to Frost to pass to the crime scene unit. She stood up to flex her legs, to take pressure off her aching calf muscles, and to be physically on more equal footing with Jane.

"It's odd that someone would secure a message to this man's chest but throw him into salt water that would wash the message away."

"Maybe the killer got spooked?" Jane suggested beginning her usual conjecture which Maura detested. "Threw the body into the water near the docks maybe, and it washed up here? Paddy owns the docks so it isn't that far fetched."

"We'd have to analyze the tide and which way it would have dragged the body," Korsak offered but before he could speak again, Maura cut him off.

"The odds of this body being thrown into the water at the docks and washing up here, unharmed with little decomposition, are rather impossible. Statistically speaking, of course, for a body to be washed onto the shore with no visible signs of decay indicate that it was not submerged under water for a long period of time. This is likely very recent."

"There's not even trash on this beach!" Jane turned around in the sand throwing her hands up in frustration. "Aside from a guy with an ice pick sticking out of his chest, we've got virtually nothing."

"I'm going to process the body." Maura began walking toward where Jane had parked her car. "I can look into the tides and flow patterns of the water while you work on the beach."

Maura didn't look back, she felt her breathing become shallow as she recognized what she was about to do. She couldn't even remember the last time she left Jane alone at a crime scene, but she had more clues than she cared to acknowledge even to herself, and she had to follow up on her own leads.

Maura started the BMW, knowing that while the body was being shipped to her morgue, she wouldn't be there to receive it. She had to make a rather important stop on the way, and she drove with purpose and conviction, thankful for the speed of her sports car shortening the duration of her journey.

Maura tried to smooth the wrinkles of her skirt before knocking on the door quietly, not wanting to catch the attention of neighbors at this time of night. The door opened and Michael looked at Maura inquisitively, not certain why she had returned to the house.

"Did you forget something?" Michael smiled as Maura pushed past him and into Patrick Doyle's room. The light was on and he was holding a book in his hands; his head was propped up by a pillow to make it easier to focus on the pages of his book.

"What are you trying to pull, Mr. Doyle?"

Maura's stern voice instantly got Patrick Doyle's attention as his eyes widened and he smiled at his daughter's fierce tone and defensive stance.

"I'm sorry?"

"Do you really even have cancer?" Maura stormed into the room and searched for Patrick Doyle's medical records. She knew she has seen his medical files earlier that day, but she had failed to review them thoroughly enough now that it appeared Paddy Doyle was well enough to commit a brutal murder.

"How can you ask me that?"

"I can ask you that since Sean Murphy's body washed up on shore with an ice pick sticking out of his chest!" Maura finally located the file and grabbed it with such force she knocked over several magazines that had been on the table near it. "You're too sick to take care of yourself but not too sick to murder someone!"

"You think I killed Sean?" Patrick Doyle looked at Michael with a look of concern that Maura had never seen before. It appeared to her, reading his facial expressions, that indeed he was surprised by the news that Sean Murphy had been killed.

"I didn't stick an ice pick into Sean, Maura," Patrick Doyle coughed and then settled back in, a look of concern etched into his face.

"It's your signature!"

"I wouldn't kill one of my own!" Patrick Doyle's voice was shaky, raspy from dryness, and he nodded at Michael holding out his hand so that he could receive an envelope that had already been opened. "This came earlier today."

Maura opened her hand and took the envelope quickly; opening it up to find a black and white picture of Sean Murphy at what looked like a hospital supply store. Behind him, in bins, were different canes and in the background Maura could see several shelves displaying blood pressure cuffs in various boxes.

"When was this taken?"

"After you gave Michael the list of supplies you needed," Patrick Doyle stared at Maura waiting for a reaction. "He went out to get them; brought most of them back other than the shower seat. He had to go get that at a different store, that was a few hours ago."

"You're telling me that he's been dead just hours?"

"You're the Chief Medical Examiner," Patrick Doyle's voice was stern. "I'm sure you can verify that during your examination."

"You're right," Maura clenched her teeth, straightening her shoulders to regain her composure. "That's where I should be, standing by my friends and giving them the forensic evidence they need to discover the truth."

Maura moved her palms down her skirt once more, smoothing out the wrinkles that were there to simply punctuate the long day that she had. She grabbed her purse and met Michael's gaze for the first time since she had arrived.

"I'll be back in the morning to look in on things. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a body to tend to so I can provide the time of death."

Maura walked out of Patrick Doyle's house with her purse under her arm. She looked around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, and opened her BMW with a small chirp to signal the unlocking of the doors and disarming of the alarm. Maura drove away, unaware of being watched and photographed yet again. She didn't notice a car pulling out behind her keeping a safe distance.

"She certainly is photogenic," a young man laughed as he began to follow Maura back to Boston PD headquarters.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Maura bent over Sean Murphy's body carefully extricating his stomach in order to examine the organ closer. This was a part of the autopsy process that Maura liked the most. It simply was a puzzle to her; the stomach contents of her victims helped Maura piece together their activities before they fell victim to whatever crime had taken their lives. Sean Murphy was no exception. Despite the fact that she knew more about his life than most of her victims, Maura acted with the same precision as she normally did, meticulously reviewing the body for clues and following through with all of her procedures.

The elevator dinged and she heard hard footsteps signaling a visitor to her morgue. Maura remained focused, ignoring the cramping in her lower back having spent the night stooped over Sean Murphy's body. She knew instantly, based on the familiar sound of the footsteps, that Jane had arrived at work and was paying her an early morning visit.

"Have you been here all night?" Jane's husky voice seemed to echo through the morgue and Maura smiled despite her fatigue. The goose bumps on Maura's arms had no medical explanation other than that Jane's voice did things to Maura that she refused to even admit to herself. "I thought you were calling in Dr. Pike?"

"I never said that."

"You never said you weren't," Jane pointed out setting her cup of coffee down. "The last time we went against Doyle you made a point to call in Dr. OCD so that we had an airtight case against him."

"And we both rushed to judgment on that case; science proved Paddy's innocence and you found the real perpetrator."

"Why are you doing this, Maura?"

"Isn't this what I'm paid to do?" Maura stood up straight and winced. She placed her hands on her lower back and leaned, trying to stretch the overworked muscles. She knew she was deflecting; it was the only way she could skirt around the issue with Jane without lying. It certainly would be difficult for Maura, knowing Jane knew her inability to lie and her physical reaction to its practice, to explain why she would ultimately end up face first on the floor.

"Solitaire back?" Jane's voice was laced with sympathy for Maura as she worked to stretch out her muscles.

"What?"

"You have solitaire back." Jane handed Maura her own cup of coffee to revitalize her.

"I'm quite certain you're making that terminology up."

"It's when you lean over a deck of cards playing solitaire too long, your muscles freeze up."

"Now I'm 100% certain you've made that up," Maura chuckled as she sipped Jane's coffee. "COD is puncture of the heart's left ventricle. He died in minutes, bleeding out with the heart unable to function. Murder weapon, obviously, the ice pick."

"Right, so Doyle's MO. Which is why I'm wondering why you are doing this autopsy and not Pike?" Jane leaned back onto Maura's sink area, but not before checking to ensure no stray body fluids or organs were nearby. She folded her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow waiting for Maura's answer.

"Because this isn't completely the MO of Paddy Doyle," Maura answered simply as she put the coffee down and turned back to face the body. "My initial examination at the beach led me to believe that this isn't going to be the case that brings my biological father to justice. It's similar, but not the same."

"Because everyone kills with an ice pick and pins a message to a dead body with it?"

"Because whatever message Paddy Doyle sends when he murders someone gets delivered. This one, whatever was on that paper, wasn't delivered. It's imperfect; Paddy Doyle has never been this disorganized or frantic."

"That's the reason you're doing this autopsy? Because you think Paddy Doyle never makes a mistake so it can't possibly be him?" Jane's voice raised an octave.

"I'm doing this because you need the best possible chance to find out who killed this young man and that's my job, Jane. My job is to help you, which is what I'm doing."

Jane looked astounded, mouth agape, watching as Maura placed Sean Murphy's heart on her scale to weigh it. She stared at Maura, taking in how tired she seemed, yet tense at the same time. Jane walked up behind Maura placing her hands on Maura's shoulders and, leaning closer, she whispered in her ear.

"You never wanted to risk losing a chance to get Paddy Doyle before," Jane whispered, unaware of Maura closing her eyes and relishing in the closeness between her and Jane. "You can't blame me for questioning things when our lead suspect is your sperm donor."

Maura paused, allowing her body to relax into Jane's as she took a deep breath. She bit on her lower lip, daring not to say anything to Jane that would tip her dependable 'gut instinct' that this case was different. Maura knew with certainty that her biological father couldn't possibly be the source of this latest murder, but couldn't reveal that to Jane.

"Let me know when you have the time of death and try not to develop permanent solitaire back over this case," Jane chuckled as she squeezed Maura's shoulders and passed through the morgue and back toward the elevator.

Maura snickered as she realized that she had been holding her breath. For reasons that she didn't want to address nor understand, Maura simply felt safest and adored when she was near Jane. She knew that she had never been great at close interpersonal relationships; much of her life had been spent alone. There had been co-workers and associates, but few who got close. But Jane was different. She had never trusted anyone the way she trusted Jane and she believed that Jane felt similarly. Maura's jaw clenched. She was keeping from Jane that she was helping her father and she began to wonder just how Jane would react if she ever found out. Would Jane forgive her? Maura closed her eyes, trying to stretch out the tension that was quickly settling in her shoulders. She needed to find a way to handle this with Jane; she couldn't bear the thought of Jane walking out of her life. Maura shook her head to gain her composure once more, reminding herself that, right now, she had a job to do.

Jane leaned against the wall down the hall from the morgue, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Something odd was going on with Maura, Jane's gut told her that for sure. She squinted slightly, her detective's mind sorting through the last few days for anything that might help her understand. If Maura was just helping a 'sick friend' why hadn't she told Jane? They were so close and spent so much time together, she told Jane everything. Or did she? The elevator doors opened and Jane wandered in, still deep in thought. Maybe they weren't as close as she thought. Maybe Maura had gotten tired of Jane's 'abuse' as she called it. Maybe Maura was seeing someone. Jane's stomach clenched at that last thought. 'Why does that bother me so much,' she wondered. Her handed drifted to her face as she thought and her eyes closed as she caught the scent of Maura's perfume. How was it that the scent was so familiar and comforting? The elevator dinged and Jane's eyes flew open as she recognized what she was feeling.

"Hey, there you are," Korsak said, passing her as she stepped out of the elevator. "Frost is looking for you. Something about that paper that was pinned to Sean Murphy's chest. I think he's got something."

"Yeah, thanks," Jane mumbled, trying to push away her earlier thoughts and re-focus on the case as she headed toward the bullpen.

Maura finished suturing the Y incision closed and laid the instruments aside. She leaned heavily against the autopsy table, exhaustion weighing on her. Pulling a deep breath, she removed her gloves with a snap and turned to throw them in a biohazard bin. She gasped loudly upon finding Michael, her father's trusted employee, standing near the autopsy table.

"You scared me," Maura placed her palm over her rapidly beating heart. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to see my brother," Michael said sadly as he touched Sean's cold hand. "It's been hard, knowing I'm not going to see him again."

"Your brother?"

"Not literally, obviously, but Sean was the closest thing I'll ever have."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Maura was genuinely surprised at the look of sorrow in Michael's eyes. "Maybe you should have asked Mr. Doyle not to kill your friend."

"You think Paddy Doyle did this to Sean?" Michael looked angry, his voice uneasy as he stared at Maura. "I can assure you that he didn't. Even if he _could_, he wouldn't kill Sean."

"I have to agree with you this one time," Maura conceded. "This doesn't fit Paddy Doyle's standard MO. But that isn't to say that he hasn't killed many other young men just like Sean Murphy or that Sean wasn't killed _because_ of Mr. Doyle."

"Paddy Doyle isn't a vicious murderer, Dr. Isles, and Sean was one of the good guys. Paddy knows this too."

"Good guys?" Maura allowed her mouth to fall open in shock. Her arms defensively folded across her chest and she shifted her weight to one foot and cocked her hip in anger. "You can't be serious?"

"I've learned there is a fine and sometimes blurry line between the good guys and the bad ones, Doctor."

Michael walked around to the other side of the table and placed his hand on Sean's shoulder. He whispered what Maura thought was a prayer and then made the sign of the cross muttering 'amen' as he stepped back from the body.

"Paddy Doyle has killed, Dr. Isles; neither of us would deny that. But do you know _who_ he has killed?"

Maura remained silent formulating her argument, but never getting a chance to voice it once Michael started talking once more.

"Drug dealers," Michael wiped a stray tear that had fallen from his eyes and hardened his stance to hide his grief. "Last year Paddy ordered a hit on a known drug dealer who was trying to push pounds of crack into the local school systems. When Paddy found out it was coming from the docks that we run, he put a stop to it. Does that sound like an evil man to you?"

Maura stepped to the side and fidgeted with a file on the autopsy table before turning to face Michael once more.

"What about Sutton? He killed Melissa Black and some of our men before Paddy put a stop to it. Did you think Sutton was such an upstanding citizen that he didn't have a punishment coming? You knew Paddy didn't kill that woman when the case was pending, but he gets accused of a lot of things that he's not responsible for."

Maura nodded and cleared her throat before speaking, "I knew he didn't kill MJ Black when science, unbiased and true, proved it to me. But that doesn't make him a good guy, Michael. The reason Paddy Doyle gets accused of a lot of bad things is because he's done many of them multiple times. Where there's smoke there's most often fire."

"Let me ask you something, Dr. Isles," Michael moved closer and leaned against the table, holding Maura's gaze as he spoke. "When the big drug bust in 2001 went down and three drug dealers were shot in the chest and died, did you praise the officers who shot them or condemn them for their deaths?"

Maura looked at him inquisitively. "I wasn't here in 2001; I was in Europe doing some volunteer work and backpacking through the countryside so I'm not sure who you…."

"_Detective Rizzoli_ was praised for that drug bust and it's what ultimately led her to homicide where she received yet another medal for killing the cop that was running a drug cartel out of Boston."

"This isn't about Jane!" Maura snapped back through clenched teeth. She would always passionately defend her best friend.

"She's killed bad people too, the only difference is that we don't run into the same red tape she does. She finds the bad guys and at times, has had to kill them to bring them justice. She's very good at what she does, Dr. Isles, and you find that honorable, respectable."

"I admire Jane for the woman that she is, inside and out. However, I fail to see what Jane being good at her job has to do with this!"

"I saw you earlier, before you knew I was here. You love her, and yet she has killed bad people too but you approve when she does it. Praise it even."

"It's her job and she's damn good at it."

"The only difference is that she runs into red tape and has her hands tied, causing Boston more money than it's worth, to give bad people a life in jail where they get three square meals a day and sometimes a better life than a lot of people have on the outside."

"I'm sorry….."

"Do you think I had three square meals a day before Paddy Doyle took me in? Do you think that I had cable, a warm bed, or rights on the streets? I didn't get that until Paddy helped me get off the street. But commit a murder, a robbery; any crime that gets you in the joint and you'll get a great life with rights and everything."

"I fail to see what this has to do with Jane?" Maura was irritated; she began twirling her ring around to control her anger and frustration with the situation.

"I'm just saying that Paddy Doyle and Detective Rizzoli aren't as different as you think they are, Doctor." Michael reached into his inside coat pocket and handed Maura a business card. "My cell phone is on there. When you get more information from your autopsy of Sean can you please let me know what you find?"

"I'll be informing Detective Rizzoli of my findings." Maura stood her ground against Michael. "I knew helping him was a mistake…I won't do my father's bidding, Michael."

Michael turned and left the morgue, just as quietly as he came, leaving Maura in a state of confusion. First Jane had set her senses ablaze and now her anger matched the same level after Michael had paid her a visit. She grabbed the file from the table and stormed into her office to take a much-needed break.

"What's up, Frost." Jane weaved through the desks in the bullpen, finally planting herself on the corner of Frost's desk.

"I took the photo paper that was pinned to Sean Murphy's chest and ran it through the MX3000 scanner at 720dpi. Then I put it—"

Jane held up her hand, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. "Spare me the geek speak. Can we cut to the chase?"

"An image," Frost offered, somewhat deflated by Jane's attitude. "I managed to pull an image and clear it up enough to run it through facial recognition. It came up with fifteen potential matches."

"Fifteen!" Jane shouted, hopping up from the desk and beginning to pace the small pathway between the desks. "We can't narrow that down a bit? I mean we can't possibly put protection on fifteen potential vics."

"Already done," Frost smiled, "Of the fifteen, only one is a known associate of Doyle's."

"Nice!" Jane smacked Frost so hard on the back he nearly pitched forward. "Let's see it."

Frost switched screens on his computer and angled the monitor to give Jane a better look.

"Michael Byrne. Started out as a petty thug and worked his way up to Doyle's lieutenant," Jane paused to take in the info. "Let's call over to organized crime and see what else they can tell us about Mr. Byrne. And we'll get word out to patrol to bring him in if he crawls out into the sun."

In South Boston, the air was cold. The breeze kicked up, blowing orange and yellow leaves across the ground as Paddy Doyle fingered the envelope that had been delivered during the night to one of Doyle's warehouses. It had been passed through the chain of command and had been handed to him after his brief nap. That was the worst part of it; the constant need to sleep that he fought off to try to retain control over one of the largest crime organizations in the country.

Paddy slid his finger into the envelope and ran it across the seal to break it open. He slid the pictures inside partway out before dropping the envelope to his lap. "We got pictures of Sean too?" Paddy Doyle's voice was coarse; he felt his outrage at someone attacking his organization while he was ill and couldn't protect them in his usual manner.

"Yes, Sir."

"Sean was first and two days later he ended up dead." Paddy sighed as he took the contents out of the envelope and began to lay it out on his lap to look at it. "Did Michael check in yet?"

"He called to say he was going to take some time and say goodbye to Sean in his own way."

Paddy felt his heart beating erratically as looked over the contents of the latest package. His hands began to shake as he looked at the black and white photos lying in his lap. His daughter, Dr. Maura Isles, was staring back at him. His eyes struggled to maintain focus on her picture, but to no avail, he surrendered to the dark with Maura's photo still clutched in his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of the reviews and story alerts. It certainly does help keep me motivated. I am trying to move this along and get to 'M' rated parts – LOL! We are slowly working our way there. I am gone for the next few days on a holiday of sorts, but will update once I get back as quick as I can. Thanks again for all the support, it is truly appreciated.

Chapter 6

Maura was sitting in her designer office reviewing the lab results for Sean Murphy to provide Jane and Frost her complete analysis. The toxicology screens had come back clean; her investigation placed the time of death an hour before the runner had stumbled upon the body on the beach. Sean Murphy's lungs were clear, ruling out all possibility that he was killed at the docks, his body dumped, and washed to the beach. Maura was certain that he was killed on that beach and the small amount of fluid in his body was simply because he had laid there for sixty minutes prior to being found. Part of the fluid was also the natural reaction of the body; the evidence was proving that Paddy Doyle didn't commit this murder. Maura looked up when her cell phone began to vibrate on her desk.

She closed the file after signing it, knowing she would shortly be journeying to Jane's desk to drop it off. Maura picked up her phone and glanced at the caller ID. The number was blocked, as it had been each time Patrick Doyle called her. She wasn't surprised given she just completed an autopsy on one of his employees; but she refused to give him any information on the case. That was information for Jane; she was on Jane's side not Paddy Doyle's.

"Dr. Maura Isles," Maura cringed, already knowing the voice she would hear on the other side. But when it turned out not to be Paddy Doyle, she blinked in shock and forced herself to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

"Dr. Isles, this is a friend of a friend."

"And what friend would that be?" Maura balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear while she gathered the file to join Jane upstairs in the Homicide bullpen.

"Your sick one," the gravely voice on the other end was clearly losing patience.

"Is he ok?"

"He passed out." Maura frowned as her mind began to process the information. There were any number of reasons why this could happen; but she would need his vitals before she would make any determination or panic that this was truly the end.

"Is Michael there? I'm sure he took his vitals."

"No, Doctor, Michael isn't here. What do we do?"

"Is he breathing?" Maura was now growing more impatient as the conversation lagged; it was as if the caller was purposely trying to aggravate her.

"Yes, but he hasn't woken up yet."

"I need to finish up here, but I'll get there as soon as I can. In the meantime, you need to take his pulse and blood pressure. There is a log with dates and times near the bed; record it there so I know what it is."

"I don't know how to do that."

"Michael does." Maura rose out of her desk chair and began to walk toward the exit of the morgue with Sean Murphy's file in her hands. "I can't just drop everything and run over there when you call."

"This could be an emergency and Michael isn't here!"

"And I would think you, of all people, would understand that I have to be discrete and I have a job to do here. Get Michael there, I'm sure he'll drop everything to tend to Mr. Doyle's needs."

The words Michael debated earlier rang through Maura's mind and the more she thought about it, the more she believed that Paddy Doyle wouldn't have killed Sean Murphy. He was, as far as Maura had witnessed, a trusted and loyal employee. One wouldn't be allowed near Paddy Doyle in his last days without a tremendous amount of trust.

Maura ended the conversation as the elevator bell sounded, announcing its arrival. She stepped into the elevator and pushed the button to Homicide's floor. She was mentally preparing herself for the debate she knew Jane would engage her in; Jane wanted nothing less than to prosecute Doyle for his crimes, perhaps to the point where it clouded her vision at times.

"Hey, Doc," Frost began to watch Jane as she paced back and forth in front of the white board that displayed all the information they knew. Granted, it was mostly bare, which explained Jane's expression when she turned to face Maura.

"Please tell me you've got something?" Jane mustered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Even I'm tired of hearing my own voice make up theories."

Maura placed her hand on Jane's shoulder and smiled; she knew that she could never get tired of hearing Jane's unique voice, it often washed over her and elicited responses from Maura that she wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"He was killed only an hour to an hour and a half before the body was found. He was killed on the beach; not the docks. The body wouldn't have been washed up so quickly and the current patterns of the water suggest that it wouldn't have washed the body up at that spot on the beach."

"So he was killed there, but we found no blood on the sand?"

"He could have been killed in the water and it washed back out with the tide?" Korsak offered, biting down on a messy jelly donut.

"Would he have gone there quietly? There were no signs of a struggle." Jane bit the end of her pen and she continued to pace, voicing aloud any theory that popped into her head.

It amazed Maura how well her three friends worked together; easily building off of one another's thoughts, like building blocks or pieces to a puzzle that eventually all fit together to form a glorious picture.

"Unless Doyle asked him to meet him there?"

"Good point, Jane." Frost scribbled some notes down while intently listening to Jane's theories.

"The evidence shows that Paddy Doyle didn't kill this man. It wasn't the same M.O." Maura braced herself for the argument that was bound to come, but when Jane remained silent she became worried. Instantly, her brain began to react and her mouth opened, unable to stop the progression of words. "Despite the fact that there was an ice pick in his chest, which we do know is Doyle's style, the attack was frantic; it was messy and disorganized in nature which we know is not his style."

"I don't think Doyle would be killing off his own men," Jane agreed as Maura opened her mouth to debate another point. It was shocking and Maura sat perched on the corner of Jane's desk with her mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out, for longer than she cared to admit. "What's the tie, other than Doyle, between Murphy and Byrne?"

"Wait," Maura looked puzzled causing Jane to stop pacing and smile at her. It was so rare that the good doctor wasn't composed. "Who?"

"Michael Byrne." Jane moved aside so Maura could see Michael's picture hanging on the evidence board. "Frost was able to do some geeky technology thing to lift his picture off of the photo paper pinned to Murphy's chest. It's a message, but what the message is we don't know."

Maura felt her heart begin to race as she stared at a picture of Michael Byrne leaving what she recognized as Patrick Doyle's home in South Boston. It was the same Michael whom she had tasked with taking Doyle's vitals. Her palms began to sweat and she focused on her breathing to calm herself before she spoke again.

"Rizzoli," Jane's phone broke Maura's train of thought as she watched an unreadable expression cross Jane's face. "Where?" She used her long legs to cross the bullpen in record time and reached across Maura to grab her keys. "We'll be right there."

Jane grabbed her blazer off the back of her chair as she clipped her phone back in its place on her belt.

"That was dispatch," Jane motioned for Frost to stand and he followed suit; putting his coat on and straightening his tie while Jane spoke. "We've got another body, in South Boston this time."

Maura stood and smoothed out her skirt, following close behind Jane.

"My bag is in the car," Maura announced as Jane hit the down button on the elevator. "I can drive myself." It was an easy excuse for her to drive separately, allowing her to process the crime scene and then go check on Patrick Doyle in route back to the station.

Keeping up with Jane, her stride long and confident, wasn't an easy task. Maura knew that she would arrive after Jane at the scene; she hadn't even gotten to her car before Jane had started hers and drove away.

So Maura took her time, driving the speed limit, obeying all traffic signs, rubbing her temples at every light to ward off her pending headache. The stress that Maura was feeling certainly was manifesting itself in classic ways.

Maura parked her car near Jane's and grabbed her bag, making her way over to the crime scene. Frost was already typing frantically on his iPad and nodded at her as she approached.

"Doc." Frost looked at her with an expression that Maura hadn't seen in a long time. The last time was when she was performing the autopsy on James Stern and realized it was Hoyt's work.

"What's wrong, Barry?"

"It's uh…" Frost saw Jane making her way over to where they stood. She also wore a tense look and Maura began to push past Frost to talk to her.

"What's going on?"

"It's another ice pick," Jane sighed.

Maura looked past Jane's shoulder to see Michael Byrne lying in a pool of blood. There was an ice pick sticking prominently out of his chest.

"Was there another message?" Maura was out of breath as she walked toward the body; her breathing erratic from the news she just heard.

"Not this time, but this isn't a coincidence, Maura."

Maura walked toward the body and leaned over it, fighting back the tears she felt welling in her eyes. Her head swiveled, taking in the entire crime scene around her, not seeing anything out of place in the park where the body was found.

"Why wasn't there a message on this body?"

"I don't think anyone removed it," Jane said as she knelt down next to Maura. "There are no foot prints in the grass or mulch and the park is nearly deserted at this time of the day when school is in session."

"Who found him?"

"Another runner," Jane stood to talk to Korsak. "Frost, go talk to him and see what he knows. Check on whether this is his normal route that he runs or if he deviated."

"This isn't Doyle," Maura mumbled as she pulled the ice pick out of Michael's chest. Her own chest ached; Michael had been caught up in something bigger than him, only brought into it to provide a better life for himself and not live on the street. "There'd be a message and the wound messy like Sean Murphy's. He struggled; there's already bruising around his forearms to indicate someone was holding his arms back."

"Mob war?"

"God I hope not, Korsak," Jane jumped when her phone vibrated on her belt; a sign of an incoming call. She didn't bother to look at it; she was captivated by the moment and her desire to catch anything out of place in the park.

"Rizzoli." Jane stopped walking as she pulled the phone away from her ear to check the number. She placed it back, walking away from the scene without a word. She put her other finger to her ear to block out the commotion of those who were processing the scene.

Maura looked around, taking careful note of her surroundings. She bagged the ice pick, collected samples of the mulch and grass near the body, and instructed her team to gather the grass that had blood stains on it. She knew she would test to ensure it was Michael's blood and not that of his assailant given he had fought. The idea that he fought back, that he was likely scared and hurt when he was stabbed, continued to bring tears to Maura's eyes. She blinked them back; desperate not to fall apart at the scene.

Maura quickly instructed her team to bag his body and expedite it back to the morgue for her to begin working on him. The thought of cutting into his body produced shivers in hers.

"I'll start the autopsy once I get back." Maura stood near Frost searching the scene for any sign of Jane. "I have to make a quick stop so I'll be there shortly."

Frost nodded as he made a few more notes on his iPad and then closed it, signaling to Korsak that he was prepared to leave the scene and go back to the station.

"Where's Jane?"

"She left," Frost said as Korsak joined them and took Maura's arm to assist her walking on the uneven terrain. Maura smiled; chivalry certainly wasn't dead yet. "Got a call and took off. She said she'd be back at the station though, so she's probably already there. We can meet up back there, let us know when you get back and we'll see you at the autopsy."

Maura was barely cognizant of her labored breathing as she started her BMW and headed the short distance to Patrick Doyle's house. This time, she didn't obey any of the traffic rules; she ran two stop signs in the neighborhood before bringing her BMW to a screeching halt in front of Patrick Doyle's house. She slammed the door; running up the walkway and entering the house without even knocking. She hardly paused as the thought crossed her mind that Patrick Doyle shouldn't be leaving his front door open.

Maura pushed past one of Paddy Doyle's men; not that he had even tried to stop her progression into the house.

"Where is he?"

Maura rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed the hospital bed that usually contained Paddy Doyle was empty. The sheets were ruffled, magazines were being neatly stacked once more on the table near Paddy's bed, and the empty water cup with a straw in it was being thrown out.

"Oh my god," Maura's hand went to her mouth as she gasped.

"He's outside, with a visitor."

"What's he doing out of bed?" Maura made her way, for the first time, further into the house rounding corners, finding her way to the back of the house to where she could hear Doyle speaking in a hushed tone.

It never dawned on Maura that she shouldn't be interrupting her father with his visitor. She had no level of fear regardless of the fact that Paddy Doyle was a known killer, a successful one who had always eluded the police. Maura knew that based on Paddy Doyle's line of work whatever visitor he would have come to the house must be important and likely a felon themselves.

Maura threw open the screened door and stepped outside, making eye contact first with her father. He had a strange combination of emotions reflecting in his face. Maura could easily, through her research, identify each one of them and mentally began to catalog them for herself. Paddy was angry, sad, his blood pressure was obviously escalated, but more so than anything he looked afraid.

Maura followed Paddy Doyle's gaze to his visitor and instantly Maura reached out to steady herself, using the door jam to provide support. Standing there, with the wind gently blowing her hair, was Detective Jane Rizzoli.

"Jane," Maura's voice was barely a whisper as she saw Jane remove her Ray-Ban sunglasses to gaze at Maura, a look she knew she would never forget.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Hey there! Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews and story alerts. We're moving this on toward the rating M, as you can see from the end of this chapter. This is when we will start to explore Rizzles, which we've all come to love right? Hope you enjoy…..

Chapter 7

Maura felt her hand tighten around the door handle as she struggled to stand upright. Jane's gaze lingered just a few seconds before glaring back at Patrick Doyle. It wasn't until Jane's focus was elsewhere that Maura noticed Jane was holding a rather large black and white photograph. She angled her head to try to determine who was in the picture, but her efforts were futile as Jane lowered it to her side.

"When did you get this one?"

"Each one came about twenty-four hours before one of my associates turned up dead."

"So what you're telling me is that you've managed to get your employees killed within a day of getting one of these? That's an impressive record, even for you, Doyle." Jane's voice was irritated, more gravelly than usual, and Maura could instantly tell that her attitude was grating on Patrick Doyle's nerves.

"Jane," Maura tried to get her best friend's attention but her effort was futile.

"I didn't have anything to do with it," Patrick said, breaking out into a sweat as the conversation carried on. "Do you think I would actually kill two of my closest associates?"

"You tell me!" Jane threw the photo on the table and that was when Maura was able to get a clearer vision of the photo's subject. She suddenly felt light-headed as the reality of it being her sank in.

"Jane," Maura pleaded to get Jane's attention once more, this time raising her voice slightly.

"I'm obviously in no shape to kill someone, Detective!" Patrick Doyle started coughing as it became more difficult for him to breathe. Maura inched her way closer to him, but remained transfixed on Jane reading her facial expressions and body language. It was a unique combination of anger, sadness, and frustration. The combination was just as distinctive as the woman producing it.

"I can admit that you didn't shove an ice-pick through someone's chest," Jane conceded as she began to pace in front of Patrick Doyle and Maura. "It doesn't mean you aren't the root cause of this mess. And now they seem to be targeting your daughter and I've got no leads!"

"I can give you the leads." Patrick Doyle clenched his jaw as he engaged in a stare down with Jane. "I have some ideas of who would want to hurt me. I called you because I need you to keep her safe, not take care of my business."

"Are you trying to insinuate that I'm in danger and the next target for whatever is going on here?" Maura said panicking slightly at the thought.

"Each person has a tie to you, Doyle."

"You have a knack for stating the obvious, Detective Rizzoli," Patrick Doyle interrupted.

"Am I in danger?" Maura directed her question at Jane. "Am I the next target?"

Jane continued glaring at Doyle, ignoring Maura's please. When she spoke, her sarcasm was obvious making the situation tenser than it truly needed to be. "Are you losing control over your minions?"

Doyle stopped momentarily and then focused on Maura as he spoke. "I called you to protect her, not interrogate me about my business." Patrick Doyle bit his lower lip as he thought about that angle.

"Talk to me!" Maura's screaming drew Jane's attention to her as Maura began to panic. "Please tell me what's going!"

"You tell me, Dr. Isles," Jane shot back, instantly hurting Maura's feelings.

"That's not fair, Jane."

"Tell that to Sean Murphy and Michael Byrne. Oh wait, you can't because they're dead." Jane picked the picture back up and turned toward Patrick Doyle. "Tell me now who you suspect and why they're coming after Maura!"

"She needs protection," Patrick Doyle stated the obvious, annoying Jane even more. "She's not safe here and I can't protect her if someone is taking out my entire top…"

"Your top what?"

"I want you to keep my daughter alive and safe. I couldn't help my employees obviously, but I have to help my daughter. This picture leads me to believe that she's next, they likely know she's my daughter."

"We know she's likely the next target since they sent you her picture! What I want to know is why, and don't tell me it is because she's your daughter because the other two dead guys obviously weren't your spawn!"

"Can you please stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Maura straightened her posture as she stepped forward, refusing to be ignored.

Jane turned and focused all her anger at Maura with every bit of conviction powering the words as they came out of her mouth. "You want to be involved in the conversation, Maura? The smart thing to do would have been to start the conversation with me the moment he contacted you and you allowed him to involve you in this mess!"

"You don't understand, Jane…."

"Sean Murphy had worked for me for almost fifteen years," Patrick Doyle began to elaborate on his organization; this was something that Jane was not going to miss. "He was one of my top employees, a trusted friend. Perhaps not my spawn as you put it, but closer to me than many."

"And Michael Byrne?"

"When I die of cancer, Detective Rizzoli, he was to take over my organization. Does that tell you how important he was to me? He was like my son."

"So you're suggesting that your enemies are knocking off the employees who were set to take over for you when you die? How do they know you're dying?"

"I don't know," Paddy Doyle was telling her the truth; Jane felt it in her gut. "But she's been here taking care of me on and off so they likely think she's close to me."

"_This_ is your sick friend?" Jane was outraged. "You're keeping him alive?"

"I was keeping him comfortable," Maura said carefully.

"Which is a luxury his innocent victims never had!"

"I have never killed innocent people, Detective," Patrick Doyle was getting agitated himself.

"Please don't insult my intelligence, Doyle."

"And we both know if you had any solid evidence to even suggest a hint of my involvement in any murder that I would be dying in a jail cell right now. I need you to focus on protecting Maura while I figure out what's going on."

"My badge says detective which makes it my job to figure out what's going on!"

"I need someone who is capable and trusted by Maura to protect her. I'll figure out who is attacking my organization."

"And produce another body for me to deal with?" Jane was incensed. "No thank you, nobody else dies. You don't know that you aren't next."

"Which would be better than dying slowly every single day!"

"Why am I even talking to you about this? I finally have you in front of me, I need to arrest you."

"And risk Maura being killed while Boston's finest dig and not turn up anything?" Patrick Doyle was calling Jane's bluff. "I know you won't do that. Even you have to admit that your organization is rather inept with dealings on the streets."

"I can take care of myself." Maura refused to be cut out of decisions that involved her life. "I'm tired of you talking about me like I'm not even here!"

"You have no choice," Patrick Doyle shot back quickly. "This isn't up for debate, Maura."

"So, what? I'm going to have a police escort everywhere I go?"

Maura now understood why Jane left the crime scene and how she had managed to appear at Patrick Doyle's home. He had called her, a desperate move to keep Maura safe. She knew what was at stake for him involving the police. Likely, it would be a life behind bars if Jane had her way.

"If we have less than twenty-four hours before someone comes after her, I need to get things in place to keep her safe."

"She needs to be away from Boston," Patrick Doyle began to talk as Jane removed her phone from the holster and began to type a text. Maura guessed it was to Frost and Korsak; Jane was frantically typing as Maura's father began to talk once more.

"You don't get to be in charge here, Doyle," Jane scolded as her phone dinged to indicate an answer to her text. "I'm calling the shots including what happens to you."

Maura watched as her father struggled to stand on his feet and maintain his balance. He was weaker, in the short amount of time that they had been recently reconnected due to his illness, he had grown considerably weaker.

"Rizzoli," Jane answered her phone, walking away from both Maura and Patrick Doyle to allow herself some privacy.

"You're going to tell me who my mother is," Maura stated with conviction. "The fact that I can't likely take care of you anymore doesn't change our terms."

Patrick Doyle remained quiet, silently watching his daughter.

"Thanks to you I feel certain in saying that you've already cost me my friendship with Jane," Maura blinked back her tears as Jane approached them once more. "Can we talk?"

"Not now, Maura." Jane refused to acknowledge Maura's hurt look. This was neither the place nor time to have a conversation about her deception. "Korsak and Frost are coming." Jane looked directly at Doyle with such a hardened look that it stunned Maura into silence. "I gave them directions here and told them who I'm with. I expect them to be let inside without incident."

"I can arrange for that." Patrick Doyle struggled to walk inside and began talking as he journeyed toward his hospital bed. He sat on the edge, thankful for the resting place knowing he wouldn't have to get up for the rest of the day if he chose not to. He sipped the fresh water that was by his bed; a new straw and glass was a small, but welcomed, change.

Jane paced the floor, glancing out the window to spot Korsak and Frost, but mostly to avoid Maura's gaze. After Maura had kept herself busy taking Paddy Doyle's vitals, straightening up the room, and ensuring he was comfortable, there was very little to do but stare at Jane and try to gain some normalcy in their relationship. She finished up by helping Patrick Doyle swallow his pain pills and settle in before she approached Jane.

"I was only trying to keep him comfortable. He was willing to give me my mother's identity in return, Jane." Maura placed her hand on Jane's arm as she spoke softly while Patrick Doyle rested.

"Just what a monster would do," Jane spoke to her directly, the first time since Maura had arrived at the house. "You actually trust him to give you that information? I thought you were supposed to be a genius."

"I have to know," Maura's voice was soft, sadness laced through it. "I can't expect anyone to understand how desperate I am to find my real mother. It's like I'm never quite complete in my skin not knowing."

"And you assumed that I wouldn't have understood." Jane walked the length of the room before turning to face Maura once more. "When we figured out who your father was, I understood! I worked my ass off to keep you safe, Maura. What hurts the most is that you didn't trust me to understand, you never gave me a chance."

"Jane?" Korsak's voice followed a soft knock on the front door. Jane looked out the window and saw Korsak and Frost standing near one another, cautiously holding onto their weapons to quickly pull them if needed.

"Hey," Jane opened the door and ushered them in quickly.

"What the hell, Jane?" Korsak's eyes were drifting from Jane to Patrick Doyle, lying down in bed, propped up by several pillows. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you…"

"Let's spare the pleasantries for the moment, Detectives." Patrick Doyle's persona instantly changed the moment someone other than Jane and Maura were near. "You have a job to do; Dr. Isles is in danger and we need to act quickly."

"Are you kidding me?" Frost's voice was a betrayal of his facial expression, which was collected. "You're a known criminal and you're trying to boss us around?"

"And we both know you won't do anything about that."

"Oh really?"

"Jane," Patrick Doyle sighed as he looked at Jane standing near him. "Perhaps you should remind your partner that if you actually had any proof of these so-called crimes I've committed you would have already arrested me when you got here and we'd be having this conversation in a holding room."

"Jane," Korsak looked between Jane and Maura trying to decide what exactly had transpired the last hour while he had been processing the crime scene. "What do we have?"

"Pictures have been arriving of people who end up dead approximately twenty-four hours later." Jane handed Korsak the photo of Maura. "Murphy's showed up here two days ago; there were two of Bryne, since one was pinned to Murphy's chest, and he showed up dead this morning. Maura's photo came this morning so if the pattern is followed they'll come after her soon."

The desperation of Jane's voice gave Maura hope that all was not lost since she obviously cared so much about Maura's fate. Although, the thought did occur to Maura that Jane was serious about her job and perhaps she would be just as dedicated to protecting anyone in danger regardless of whom they were.

"Detail following her, maybe station teams in the morgue and outside of her house?"

"Do I get a say in this?" Maura was desperately trying to regain control over her life, but the fact of the matter was that she had lost it the moment she aligned with Patrick Doyle.

"That could be a first step, but that will only get us so far," Jane responded. "We need to protect her and figure out who is behind it at the same time. If we don't get to the perp, we're just delaying their attempt and the longer that goes on, the more likely they'll get through. We're going to need someone else to help."

"We can talk to Cavanaugh."

"How do we explain why Maura is in danger?"

"Don't you think we can trust him to keep this secret that she's Paddy's daughter?" Frost asked.

"We'd have to explain how we came about that information," Jane argued back. "I, for one, don't want to offer up the information that we've known that little tidbit for over a year and knew a way to actually contact him too!"

"We can detail her though."

"What about Frankie," Korsak offered as a suggestion. "He can take a few shifts and then ask his friends if they can help out? We just won't tell anyone why there is a detail on Doc."

"That's a good suggestion, he can help out, but we've got to keep the interaction with her mimimal," Jane said.

"How do we go about solving who is behind this though?" Frost asked. "There isn't a lot to go on if Paddy Doyle isn't behind it."

"But he knows who are his enemies." Jane faced Doyle to speak directly to him. "Who has the biggest beef with you, Doyle, and why?"

"I told you I would handle this part of the investigation, Detective," Paddy Doyle crossed his arms over his chest in defiance.

"And I told you that you aren't running things here!"

Jane stopped yelling when her phone vibrated in its holder. She looked at the called ID and recognized Frankie's phone number scrolling across the screen.

"What's up, Frankie?"

"Where are you?" Frankie asked as he stepped over a broken picture frame. "Dr. Isles isn't answering her phone either."

"She's with me, what's going on?"

"Ma called," Frankie looked at their mother sipping a cup of coffee on Maura's couch. She was shaking and clearly upset. "Someone broke into Dr. Isles' house and guesthouse."

"When?"

"Don't know," Frankie answered. "I was on beat patrol when they called for unis to come and rope off the area. It's bad, Janie, tons of shit broken."

"Take Ma back to my apartment now, Frankie," Jane caught Korsak's knowing gaze. "Stay with her there and I'll explain when I get there."

Jane closed the phone and focused her attention on Maura, who was eagerly waiting to be informed on what was happening.

"Someone broke into your house and trashed your place."

"Is Angela ok?" Maura felt completely out of control once more.

"She's fine; she's heading to my apartment to wait there."

"It's starting already," Patrick Doyle said. "She can't go back there; she's not safe there."

Jane swung around, ready to verbally blast Doyle.

"He's right, Jane," Korsak ran his fingers through his hair as he considered their options. "This is just getting bigger and bigger already." He paused and then faced Jane with a gleam in his eye. "I've got an idea; there's a place I know that's way off the map. We'll get her there."

"They'll know she's gone."

"As long as they don't know where she is, who cares?"

"How will we explain it?"

"How much vacation do you have, Doc?" Frost asked drawing Maura into the conversation.

"Too much," Maura politely smiled.

"She can take vacation," Korsak pointed to Frost. "Can you get online and make it appear that she's got some plane ticket to Tahiti or somewhere that she would go?"

"No problem, Korsak."

"We'll also need you to get us three pre-paid cells so we aren't using the ones we have. We have to assume that they know everything at this point."

"Why three?"

"Me, you, and Jane," Korsak looked at Frost like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"What about Dr. Isles? How is she going to communicate to us?"

"Jane," Korsak said exasperated. "She needs protection and Jane's the best. Janie, you need to get packed. When you get close to being done, Frost and I will arrange transportation and I'll give you the address."

"I need to be here, Korsak! I can't help figure this out if I'm not here!"

"And Doc isn't safe unless she's with someone that can keep her that way." Korsak looked at Doyle. "This guy and I will become best friends, trust me on that one. We're going to get real close and talk about his organization and who might want a piece of him. You worry about Maura, I'll worry about Doyle."

"I'll worry about getting the shit we need before you leave," Frost said as he finished making his list. "What do we need to do to cover that Jane is gone though?"

"She won't be," Korsak said. "She'll stay with Doc but also needs to be seen occasionally by Cavanaugh and others to throw the scent off. We'll deal with that when she's packed."

"So you're scurrying me off to some secluded location to hide me?" Maura wanted to ensure that she understood. "And I am supposed to, on a dime's notice, arrange a replacement for me so I can pretend to take an extended vacation to Tahiti?"

"It's the best way to protect you, Maura." Doyle immediately felt better knowing Maura would be protected by Jane.

"So Jane and I will be staying in this out of the way location alone?"

"That's the plan," Korsak said. "And Frost and I are going to work the angles here with Daddy Dearest to get to the bottom of it and get you guys back here."

Maura was thankful that Jane would be accompanying her; she felt safer already. Yet she knew Jane was angry with her, but the initial awkwardness between them would eventually pass and she'd be able to explain why she hadn't told her about Doyle before this all happened.

"Jesus Christ," Jane said putting her head in her hands, knowing she had no choice but to protect Maura in the middle of nowhere. She was angry; but mostly frustrated that she wouldn't be working the angle of Doyle but babysitting, even if it was her best friend. "Let's get this show on the road. We don't have much time."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Maura's house was a blur of activity, causing the Chief Medical Examiner to feel out of sorts in her own home. When the plans for her "trip" had been finalized, she had been rushed from Patrick Doyle's house to her own. The irony wasn't lost on Maura that, while the police were working to hide her, what seemed like the entire force was parked in and around her driveway processing the crime scene. She stepped out of the BMW, blocked from pulling into her garage by two patrol cars. Apparently when one of their own was affronted, the BPD took it personally.

"We're gonna get 'em, Dr. Isles." Maura smiled at the familiar uniformed officer who often guarded the rope on crime scenes. "Don't you worry."

"Thank you," Maura remained gracious as the young man lifted the crime scene tape to allow Maura to easily pass under it.

Maura approached the door, seeing the jam split in two. Undoubtedly it had been forced open and she sighed. She'd have to replace it once again due to Patrick Doyle. Her eyes took in the scene before her, her couch cushions were turned over, her coffee table had been pushed on its side, and various papers from her desk were strewn across the room. She closed her eyes, desperately trying not to imagine how the rest of the house looked but knowing it would be similar. Her desk chair had been split with what she could only imagine was a rather sharp serrated knife given the slit. She nodded seeing one of her kitchen knives thrown on the ground near the chair; it sometimes got tiring being correct.

Maura walked further inside, putting her designer purse on the kitchen table, in one of the only places that didn't have damage or articles thrown across it. Her throw pillows had been slit and various pieces of art were laying all over the room. She fought valiantly to hold back her tears.

"We need to get going." Frost walked up behind Maura and placed his hand on her back as he whispered in her ear.

Maura stood still; she remained silent. Frost prodded her further.

"Jane will be here shortly," Frost offered, attempting to usher her toward the staircase that led to her bedroom upstairs. Maura's feet refused to budge. Frost looked over at Korsak with pleading eyes; it was obvious he wasn't going to get far with her.

"Where am I going?" Maura remained fixated on the police crew processing the scene in front of her.

"Can't say," Frost answered sadly, but honesty was the best policy in this case. He hadn't been briefed yet; Korsak was keeping the location tight to his vest.

"How do I know what to pack?"

"Local weather." Korsak approached Maura on the opposite side of where Frost stood. "I told Jane just to plan on local weather; it's the easiest."

Maura simply nodded and began to walk toward the staircase. She smiled graciously at those officers that offered her a word of condolences, never truly hearing them as she passed by to get to her bedroom. The bedroom had much of the same destruction. Her pillows had been thrown off the bed; her comforter bunched up. Her drawers all hung open with various clothes hanging out and she felt particular sadness when she saw various shoe boxes destroyed and thrown around the room.

Maura sat on the edge of her bed fighting back tears. Her emotions were over the entire spectrum and she tried to analyze them to compartmentalize efficiently. This would be difficult, more so than usual, to put everything in a place to function in the moment. Her anger began to rise to the surface; people had violated every part of her life.

"Doc, you need to pack." Maura looked up to see Frost standing in her doorway. He looked hurried; anxious to have her pack, which she knew was his only job for the moment. He didn't know where she was going; he wasn't going with her to protect her. That would be Jane's job. He wasn't processing the scene; his only function was to get Maura to pack and yet she had little energy to comply with his request.

"Please, Doc."

"Some of this stuff was irreplaceable, Frost." Maura stared at the mess in front of her. "What a mess."

"I am so sorry, Maura." Maura could hear the sentiment in his voice and politely smiled as Frost bent over and picked up a picture frame where it had been smashed. It was a picture of Maura and her parents on a boat, tooling around the waters in Italy on one of their last family vacations. "We'll work to get it cleaned up again; Korsak, Frankie, all of us will pitch in."

"There's not a lot to be salvaged, it won't take you long to throw it all out in a dumpster because it's broken." Maura could hear bitterness and self-pity in her voice and she cringed. She hated those types of people; she reminded herself to rise above. Maura stood and went into her walk-in closet, stepping over shoes and various clothes finally finding her suitcase. Frost took it from her hands and placed it on her bed, unzipping the luggage and opening the top to allow Maura to place her clothes easily inside.

"Is there anything I can help you with?"

"My life," Maura chuckled slightly; knowing her current circumstances were not amusing in the least. "I'm sorry I didn't confide in you, or Korsak, or especially Jane. I know you must be very disappointed in me, Frost."

"I'm sure you had your reasons, I just don't want one of them to be that you felt you couldn't because of how we are."

"Because you're loyal and would want to help me?"

"Because we're cops; and Paddy Doyle is a criminal, Doc. I know last time, with Melissa Joy Black, we all jumped to a conclusion that it was Doyle. It must have seemed like we were on a witch hunt."

"I can see the reference." Maura stopped gathering clothes and held them in her hand as she stared off into space. "Witch hunts were legally sanctioned to promote the witchcraft trials which led to an estimated 40,000 to 100,000 executions. Michael Byrne pointed out how blurry and misinterpreted the law can sometimes be. He said it is often self-serving and that because one has a badge, their actions are heroic. Yet the same action from a citizen, albeit an Irish mob boss, is viewed as barbaric."

"I bet he did."

"Doyle told me he would reveal the name and location of my birth mother if I helped him." Frost arched an eyebrow at that tidbit, having his doubts that would ever happen. "You're close to your mother aren't you, Frost?"

"She raised me when my father all but abandoned us," Frost answered. "So I'd say we're close; it's likely why Korsak and Jane always tease me about my relationship with my mama."

"I have a nice mother, Frost, she gave me a life where I didn't want for anything. But the entire nature vs. nurture argument is playing out in my own life! I've come to realize that I need both. I can't even imagine how different my life might be if my birth mother raised me, in an environment where Patrick Doyle was part of my life. Maybe I should be grateful to have what I have and let the rest go?"

"Only you can make that call, Doc." Frost was treading lightly, unsure of what to say. "You need to finish packing though; Jane will be here soon."

"I'm sure she won't be happy with me."

"She might surprise you when things calm down," Frost offered his perspective on Jane's personality so rarely that Maura smiled at his naïveté."

"That's very sweet, Barry, but I think we both know Jane is very upset with me right now."

When Maura finished packing her clothes, she quickly went into the master bathroom that was located off the master bedroom. She gathered what wasn't smashed and broken of her special lotions, her toothbrush, toothpaste, and hair essentials before returning back to her bedroom.

"Can you get the matching carry-on bag to this suitcase in my closet?"

"Another bag?"

"I can't risk having my lotions spill over," Maura explained as she struggled not to drop anything. "Even my dry cleaner wouldn't be able to get those stains out."

Frost bolted into the closet and returned with a bag that he hoped was correct. Even if it wasn't the matching one, Maura placed her toiletries inside of it and began looking around the room to see if she had missed packing something. It was obvious that this hadn't been a random break-in; her jewelry seemed to all be there as she inventoried it all lying on the floor.

Maura blinked back tears, knowing they would cascade down her face despite all her efforts to hold them back.

"Come on, Doc." Frost walked up to her and placed an arm around Maura's shoulders. "We'll get you back here and clean this up. It'll be as good as new."

"What is this? A feelings circle?" Korsak was standing the doorway tapping the face of his watch.

"What the hell is a feelings circle?"

"It's a common group therapy method to allow additional people outside of just the therapist to offer support and perhaps even personal experience on a matter to counsel someone," Maura explained. "It's highly effective."

"Korsak, how do you even know what a feelings circle is? You and Jane tease the hell out of me for being soft; did your feelings circle counsel you on your nasty pedi/mani incident?"

"I refuse to be baited into an argument about having nice feet! Men have to differentiate themselves somehow."

"I'm not even going there," Frost released Maura and secured her bags before lifting them off the bed and heading toward the entranceway.

"Jane's here," Korsak said quietly. "We need to debrief on what's going to happen and then get going. It's time to get you hidden, Doc."

Maura descended the stairs back into the flurry of activity. There were several uniformed officers dusting for prints, cataloging items and taking pictures of each one; the sight was overwhelming. Maura felt invaded, her carefully decorated sanctuary overwhelmed with strangers touching her most personal items. This was her home. The reality of the situation besieged her; she stopped on the middle of the stairway and placed her palm flat on the wall to gain her composure.

"We need to go," Korsak gently nudged Maura to continue to walk down the stairs. Jane hadn't seen her yet and she took a moment to watch her friend unnoticed.

Jane's thumb pushed into the palm of one hand; it was a habit that Maura had witnessed from Jane during stressful moments.

Jane's eyes were processing the site, looking for anything small that others might miss. She had a talent for processing a crime scene; for being able to see what others normally miss.

Jane's body was rigid; her jaw clenching and unclenching in frustration. She finally turned and saw Maura standing on the stairs watching her.

Jane's facial expressions, to many, would be unreadable. To Maura, who knew them all regardless of her training, they were an open book.

Fear, Jane was genuinely afraid for Maura's safety. The thought sent chills down Maura's spine. Jane quickly displayed anger; Maura guessed it was either that her best friend's house had been broken into and destroyed or that said best friend had withheld a rather large secret from her. It likely was a combination of the two. Jane was anxious; Maura knew Jane would feel better once the transit was done and they could settle into their location, making it easier for Jane to keep her safe.

"Korsak, Frost," Jane called out and motioned for them to go into the garage.

They all followed, Maura included, and talked to one another only when the officers who were processing the garage left to move onto another part of the house.

"Frankie's got Ma at my place; he's going to stay there with her until you give them the green light to come back, Korsak. Then they'll come back and clean up around here, Maura. It might not be exactly how you had it, but Ma loves to clean and organize. Everything will at least be labeled."

Maura smiled at Jane's attempt at humor to diffuse the situation.

"Frost and I are going to tail you Jane, just until you get far enough out of the city that we know whether you're being followed or not. I'll change cars with you Jane; if they've been tailing Maura they know what you both drive I'm sure."

"Here's your cell phone." Frost handed Jane a rather dull looking phone. "Prepaid, I programmed my prepaid number as number 1 and Korsak is number 2, so speed dial is all set. And this is a custom laptop." Frost handed a laptop case to Jane as he continued, "It's setup to automatically connect through multiple proxies that rotate on a three minute…" Frost paused at the blank look he was getting from the others. "It's secure. It's safe to use."

Jane smiled and smacked Frost on the back, then took a deep breath and for the first time in hours looked right at Maura with her chocolate brown, expressive eyes. Jane was trying to provide her comfort.

"You ready, Maura?"

Maura swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She simply nodded her head, refusing to speak knowing she would lose it if she tried.

"Frankie knows something's up but not what, Vince. Keep him and Ma safe too. He doesn't need to be involved in this, no helping out in any way."

Maura instantly saw Jane's panicked look and knew that her actions had brought danger onto the Rizzoli family. She hadn't thought through the consequences of her actions; she had never thought that something like this would be happening to her. She blinked allowing her tears to fall down her face freely.

"I told them I was heading out of town on a big case/vacation," Jane explained. "Just stick with that for a few days until we figure out if I can come and go."

Korsak nodded and Frost winked, trying to break the tension in the air.

"Ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Jane said offering Maura a weak smile. She knew Jane was still angry, the conversation would be had and sooner rather than later, likely when they ended up where they were going. Korsak handed Jane a set of directions and a key.

"It's a marine buddy's cabin; nobody uses it and it's not likely they'd tie it to me. You'll need some wood, it gets cold out there at night, but it's hidden by plenty of trees you can cut down if you run out."

"It's time," Frost said quietly as Jane nodded at him. She hugged him, somehow it seemed right to offer Frost her support, and then hugged Korsak as well. Maura offered her own hugs, not saying anything for fear of unleashing her tears once more.

"Think of it as a nice getaway vacation," Korsak suggested as he watched Maura struggle to maintain her composure. "You and your BFF."

Maura smiled despite herself; there was nowhere she would rather be than with Jane, alone and uninterrupted for some well-deserved R&R for a few days. Her mind flipped through mental images of them watching television together, cooking together, Jane's beautiful smile as she laughed at something Maura said or did unintentionally. Maura allowed Jane to escort her to the car; her hand gripping Jane's as if her life depended on it. Likely, it did depend on Jane; she was being hunted by her father's associates.

Jane opened the door to her side of the car and got in, buckling her seatbelt as Maura looked at her confused.

"The backseat appears to have a soiled spot on it," Maura cringed her nose in disgust.

"One of the many presents Dr. Doolittle gets from his liberated animals."

"So what do I do?"

"Just," Jane looked around as she began to shift the car into gear. "Get in the front and lay down low; put your head down just until we get out of the area."

Maura laid over in the seat, trying to curl herself onto the passenger side. Jane's hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hey, c'mere," Jane said gently, tugging Maura toward her. "You'll get a cramp."

Maura stretched out so that her head was on Jane's lap and instantly closed her eyes as Jane's hand rested in her hair. Maura allowed her tears to fall freely now; perhaps all was not lost in her relationship with Jane.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: OMG! Bass! LOL! So I actually thought about addressing poor Bass and then it just simply didn't make it in the chapter. I'm not sure why; I honestly thought about it. So, as someone pointed out in the comments on my last chapter (yes I do read them and cherish the feedback) I left everyone wondering about Bass. I hope you can forgive me; no animals were harmed in the creation of this story. I would also be remiss if I didn't say sorry it took me so long; real life got in the way for a bit.

Chapter 9

"Oh my God! Bass!" Maura's head shot up as Jane maneuvered their vehicle through the trees to park as close to the secluded cabin as possible. Clearly Maura was now awake; she had slept almost the entire ride to the cabin. Jane wasn't certain if that was a blessing or a curse. She was thankful that Maura was resting and allowing her time to gather her thoughts. On the other hand, Jane had expected some conversation, even if it came in the form of rationalization on Maura's part for her behavior. Instead, it seemed she wasn't bothered in the least; how else would one explain the ability to fall asleep within minutes and remain that way for the entire journey. The thought did occur to Jane, more times than she cared to admit, that perhaps she was giving her place in Maura's life more credence than it deserved.

"Your turtle is fine," Jane said as she removed her hand from Maura's shoulder and allowed her to sit up in the passenger seat. "Korsak called my new, breathtaking cell phone to inform me that your turtle was found hiding under the couch." To emphasize her sarcasm, Jane plastered on a fake grin while holding her technologically challenged phone up for Maura to view it. "As you can see, the only things it's missing are my ringtones and all the technology that comes with being in the 21st century."

"_Tortoise_," Maura corrected her in their usual game and then plastered on a sympathetic smile. "Where is Bass now?"

"Likely hiding under_ my_ couch." Jane rolled her eyes at the cell phone that remained in her hand before she shoved it in her coat pocket to escape her misery at the current absence of her beloved iPhone. "I'm not sure if he would be hiding because of Jo Friday or because of Ma and her shrill voice reliving walking into your house."

"Can't you use both phones?" Maura completely ignored Jane's reference to her house being in shambles; it was too disconcerting to absorb at the moment.

"Not if we want to remain hidden." Jane closed her eyes as she finally shut the car off and looked at the rustic looking cabin. "Did you know that in the 21st century cell phones actually have GPS and can be located?"

"Maybe it would be easier on you if you weren't so sarcastic and tried to make the best of things? I think it's hard on everyone involved."

Maura tore her gaze away from Jane's to see what Janes eyes had focused on. The cabin was partially hidden by overgrown trees. It was small, certainly only a few rooms and one level, but somehow welcoming to Maura.

"For example, see how peaceful it is out here?" Maura's attempt at being optimistic seemed to only anger Jane further. "How often do you get to escape the chaos of the city?" Maura looked around and as far as the naked eye could see, they were seemingly quite far from civilization. "Where have we actually escaped to, Jane?"

Jane drew in a deep breath in an effort to calm her temper. She had practiced all her meditation exercises throughout the drive. It became glaringly obvious to Jane that she had hardly paid attention in any of the yoga classes Maura had forced her into attending; she had exhausted her relaxation efforts only remembering a grand total of three techniques before giving up and stewing in her anger. The fact that Maura could insinuate that this was hard on her, when she was the person who had dragged them all into this ordeal, was infuriating.

"Vermont," Jane answered bluntly. "Just over the Massachusetts border."

Maura was captivated by the scenery around her. She began to look around, the view was amazing and what she originally thought of as a hill she could now see would be better classified as a cliff.

"How would anyone even build up here? Despite the fact that this is likely protected land, the sheer logistics of getting materials and a crew up here would be a nightmare." Maura's eyes followed the small trail that disappeared near the house and into a rather dense, wooded area. She opened her door and placed her foot on the ground eliciting a rather loud growl from Jane's direction.

"What?"

"Did you just happen to forget that someone is trying to kill you?" Jane grabbed her police issued revolver and cocked it to ensure it was ready to fire. "Before you go out prancing around looking for Bambi and Thumper do you think that you could give me a chance to make sure it's clear?"

Maura wisely remained silent as she watched Jane's eyes quickly glance over the scenery before them. Jane remained close to the car; Maura watched as she swirled around and checked the area once more before opening her door.

"Stay behind me, we'll go inside and take a look."

"I can stay in the car…." Maura's attempt at being helpful was met with Jane's hardened gaze.

"Right, so if someone is here they could easily take a shot at you while I'm searching the cabin. Just stay behind me Maura."

Jane quietly shut the door as Maura stood behind her, close enough to have Jane's hair tickle her nose as the wind blew it back off her face. The colors here were dramatic; each leaf seemingly kissed with hues of golden yellows and deep reddish streaks. The rustling of the branches by the wind was calming and Jane momentarily stopped and pointed her gun in the direction of the house before using the key and opening the door.

"Stay close," Jane whispered as her intense gaze focused on each corner of the room.

Maura placed a hand on Jane's back out of habit and Jane struggled to calm her nerves before walking into the house. She usually had backup, which consisted of several officers who were trained with their weapons; this was a first for Jane, having a designer clad Chief Medical Examiner who admittedly had never used a gun before as her wingman.

The living area was welcoming; large sofas that looked well used decorated the area. There was one simple throw rug placed under a coffee table on the most glorious hardwood floors that Maura had even seen. In the corner, also facing an older television set, sat a rocking chair that Maura instantly recognized as an antique.

"Close the door behind you," Jane whispered as Maura inched closer to her to be able to swing the door shut. Maura pressed her chest into Jane's back but wisely left her arms hanging at her side.

Jane moved further into the house; the kitchen was an open layout and bigger than Maura would have expected from the footprint visible outside. There was a small island strategically placed in the middle of the kitchen to prepare food on. Copper pots and pans hung overhead; it had a rustic feeling that relaxed Maura. Jane, on the other hand, was so tense the muscles in her jaw were flexing to match the ones in her arms and back. Jane peered around the corner, checking each area to ensure no one was hiding waiting for her to let her guard down.

Once Jane was confident it was safe, she motioned with her head down the hallway and Maura followed her. The hallway was small, so they instantly approached the bathroom which was the first door on the right. It was small, a pedestal sink and a tub were the only items not affixed to the wall. The items that were seemed simple, no fancy accommodations in the bathroom. Maura smiled; it somehow fit the house's feel and she was glad that it was kept in the spirit of the original structure.

There was only one additional door to the cabin; it was easy to guess that it was the bedroom. Maura's eyes widened as Jane slowly pushed the door open to reveal a queen size bed in the middle of the room and two dressers on adjoining walls. The closet door was open, and Maura's eyes widened in response to the lack of room the closet provided. She appreciated that it fit the house well; somehow she would have to manage to unpack strategically enough to utilize every inch of the room.

"It's clear." Jane stood up and the tension seemed to ooze out of her shoulders and back. Her hand remained on her gun as she turned to face Maura. "Well, both dressers and the closet might hold half of what you brought."

Maura smiled; it was easy to see that Jane was using humor to try to break the tension between them. Maura, however, was more direct in nature which often proved only to exasperate Jane and her avoidance techniques.

"I can get the bags from the car."

"Maybe the closet can hold more than I thought," Jane mused out loud, completely ignoring Maura's offer to get the bags.

"I didn't bring that much," Maura defended herself as Jane's eyes cataloged the scenery around them. She looked out the bedroom window, completely turning her back toward Maura, as she scanned the horizon and surrounding area. "I didn't even bring heels believe it or not. It's very distracting to me not to be dressed up."

Maura noticed Jane's lack of a response; she pressed onward with conversation in a feeble attempt.

"It isn't as bad as you think, Jane. Can't we just make the best of it?"

Jane ignored the question as she opened and closed one of the drawers in the antique dresser. She stepped toward the hallway bypassing Maura, purposefully not touching her as she passed.

"Are you planning on hiding me in the closet to avoid talking?" Maura's question was a fair one given Jane's posture, her arms crossed over her chest in defiance against Maura.

"We _talk_ all the time, Maura." Jane turned before she stepped out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Jane was avoiding; she essentially was reverting to old behavior. However, she did surprise Maura when she was already free and clear of the room but turned around to face her.

"Besides, it wasn't me that wasn't talking this time. It was you."

Jane's words stung; Maura instantly felt her eyes begin to sting and she blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. Maura's posture straightened and she physically set herself for battle, even if mentally she was exhausted and scared.

"Well I'm willing to talk about it now," Maura offered quietly.

Jane knew it would only be a matter of time before Maura pushed the issue; she silently cursed herself for developing and then repeating the mantra _'please don't follow me'_ knowing that Maura was worried and more than anything needed a friend right now. It was natural for her to follow Jane wanting to settle their disagreement. Maura's bluntness and inability to avoid was something that Jane normally found endearing. But Jane's reaction to Maura's omission was uncharacteristic, it made her feel needy and disregarded at the same time and she just didn't want to get into it.

"Now isn't the time."

"Then when is the time, Jane?" Maura crossed her arms across her chest in a defensive pose and cocked her hip to lean against the door jam while she spoke. "Or are we just going to passive-aggressively deal with one another for the short time we're here?"

Jane snorted, taking Maura by surprise as a smile graced her beautiful features.

"Oh, so because you _now_ want to talk about it, we need to talk about it? You've been hiding it from me for… I don't even know how long, but now you suddenly have this all-consuming need to talk about it? And you're assuming that it will be a short period of time! Boston's finest have been after Paddy Doyle and his friends for years and, as he so eloquently pointed out, we have shit on him!"

"So you're mad because you have to stay here _potentially_ for a long period of time? Or is it that you have to stay here with me?"

"I'm going to go chop some wood," Jane pointed out the back set of windows toward some of the trees. "I'll just be outside. It will get cold in here at night and we should be prepared."

"What do I have to do to make it up to you, Jane?" Maura's expression was sincere. "I wasn't trying to hurt you; I was trying to get the name of my biological mother."

Jane's silence was not much help; so Maura decided to guess while she had Jane's attention.

"Do you want me to tell you everything I know about Doyle?"

"That and a token will get me a ride on the subway, Maura."

"Do you want me to beg for forgiveness for trying to do something for myself for once in my life?" Maura winced at Jane's scoff and subsequent eye roll. "Chocolate," Maura smiled allowing her dimples to appear. "You can order it with or without 14 karat gold specs. It is our traditional way to apologize and if I search my purse I'm sure I can find something."

"You implied it was a bribe if my memory serves me correctly." Jane smiled halfheartedly; it never actually reached her dark, expressive eyes. "I'm going to chop the wood."

Maura watched as Jane headed outside, taking her light jacket off and placing it near the ground on a bare stump. She was thankful that the axe was in plain sight. It was stuck into another stump with the handle facing out. Maura knew from her vantage point that Jane couldn't possibly see her watching; Maura leaned against the wall and watched as Jane readied herself.

"Stupid chocolate, makes me sad even when it isn't from Jorge," Jane mumbled.

She picked up the handle and placed a rather large log in her cutting area. Jane swung the axe and slammed the blade down, splitting the log in two.

"_Why didn't she tell me? I trusted her. I thought she trusted me."_ Jane was thankful to have time to have the silent conversation within her head. Maura's playful attempt at apologizing made Jane even angrier.

Jane repeated the motion; slamming the axe down and feeling the physical release of her stress. She threw the wood near the door, intent on stacking it up nicely so she could just step outside briefly to get wood when they needed it.

"_Why does it bother me so much that she didn't tell me?"_

Jane grunted as the force of the blade sliced through the wood. She did it once more, throwing the wood near the cabin.

"_How is it that fucking Doyle can introduce some much fucking confusion in my life in such a short time?"_

Jane blinked when beads of sweat dripped in her eyes; she had no idea how long she had been chopping wood but it was certainly enough to be sweating profusely from the physical exertion. She laid the axe down near her feet; thankful she had dressed in layers and could easily shed some to be more comfortable.

Jane began chopping wood once more, having shed her jacket and now her sweatshirt, Jane was donned in a BPD long t-shirt and jeans. Maura could see the muscles flex in Jane's back as she lifted the axe and then slammed it down into a piece of wood to split it. Maura felt her heart race as she watched Jane, who was completely unaware of her audience. Maura loved these moments; the moments where she could observe Jane without interruption, seeing elements of Jane that she hid from so many people.

Maura watched as Jane wiped the sweat off her forehead and forced the blade back into the stump where she had found it. In a short time, Jane had chopped enough wood for a day or two. She began to stack it when Maura opened the door near the wood pile and stepped out, commanding Jane's attention.

"For the record, the chocolate wasn't a bribe. It was my way of trying to make amends."

Jane ignored her and continued stacking the wood, not necessarily because she didn't want to have the conversation, but more so because she wasn't certain what to say.

"Additionally for the record, ignoring me isn't going to make this pleasant on either of us."

Jane said nothing; continuing to stack her freshly cut wood into neat piles.

"Did you know there is actually an eighteen step program designed to help someone ignore someone else?" Maura, despite all her efforts, now felt desperate and resorting to useless trivia provided her some sort of control over the situation. "The first step is to ask yourself if you're ready to cut all ties with someone."

Jane stopped stacking wood and simply looked up at Maura from her crouched over position.

"The second would be to know the motive behind the upsetting action that has brought the relationship to this level."

"I know your motive," Jane said as she stood straight up and closed the distance between her and Maura for good measure.

"Step three is to try to voice your concerns to the person."

"I'm concerned that you lied to me and didn't tell me about your newly developed relationship with a killer."

"I think that then goes back to step two," Maura said in response to Jane's growled statement.

"This is ridiculous, Maura!" Jane was now angry and her eyes were blazing as they held Maura's gaze. "I don't need a fucking program to ignore you! You had no problem ignoring me when it came to your little secret about helping your father so why is it such an issue!"

"So you're mad, not because I was trying to get information from Doyle, but because I didn't tell you?" Maura's voice rose several octaves as the shock over the source of Jane's anger became evident.

"You lied to me."

"I can't lie!" Maura stood toe to toe with Jane, unwilling to allow Jane's misplaced anger to be directed at her. "I didn't tell you that I was making him comfortable until he died so I could get a little piece of who I am settled. That's not lying."

"It's a lie of omission."

"I didn't know how to tell you, Jane," Maura mumbled as she stepped toward the car intent on getting her bags from the trunk. She stopped when Jane's hand grasped her arm and turned her around.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you look at things very black and white, Jane. Good and bad. It's who you are. But this wasn't black and white for me."

"Oh, so this is _my_ fault?"

"Paddy Doyle is not your fault," Maura's voice dropped as she yanked her arm from Jane's grasp. "Me helping a known mob boss is not your fault, I own that decision and certainly feel like I'm paying for it now. The fact that you make no effort to understand where I'm coming from is your fault."

"And maybe if you had come to me with this on the front side I would have been more willing to try to understand where you were coming from. But you didn't give me that option."

"And clearly you're not willing to exercise the option now." Maura walked over to the car and yanked her bags from the unlocked trunk. She stacked the smaller one on top of the larger one with wheels and wheeled them up the path to the house.

"And what program step is that one, Dr. Isles?"

Maura stopped, turning to face Jane. "The one right before taking a break," she replied before wheeling her bags inside.

Jane's mouth hung open as allowed the storm door to slam shut behind her. Jane looked around, knowing that they were alone, before closing her mouth and glaring at the shut door in front of her. Jane scoffed; grabbing her shed clothing before turning toward the house. She ran one hand through her hair, her other hand clenching the fabric that it held.

"Well just what the fuck?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jane huffed once more, struggling to get comfortable on the old, lumpy couch. She pounded her fist into one of the pillows she had found in the hall closet and curled her body up tight to keep some of her body heat from escaping. The thin blanket she found near the pillow did little to help her once the sun set. Maura and Jane had barely spoken; Maura spent most of her time unpacking both her clothes and the large selection of groceries Frost and Korsak had stashed in the trunk of the car. Jane opted to get lost in case files Frost had given her to review surrounding Doyle.

Jane barely noticed that Maura had disappeared into the bedroom; in fact she had barely noticed that night had fallen until the cabin became cold. Now, the wind was blowing hard; trees rustled outside with the occasional branch snapping off. All of the tension in the air and the foreign noises made it virtually impossible to sleep. Jane heard the ticking of the mantle clock and would swear on her mother's life it was getting louder by the second.

"This is ridiculous," Maura said calmly from the doorway to the bedroom which she now solely occupied. "We've slept in the same bed before; you aren't getting any sleep and neither am I with you tossing and turning."

Jane peered over the back of the couch at Maura, clad in silk pajamas and what looked to be UGG slippers.

"Did you want me to send you gold speckled chocolate in the morning to apologize?"

Jane was surprised when Maura didn't fight back; she simply chuckled as she approached the couch and placed her arms on the back of it for support while leaning forward to talk to Jane.

"Are you hoping to change your role from hero detective to town martyr by sleeping on this couch?"

"Oh," Jane's heated gaze met Maura's to accept the challenge her words had initiated, "so now I'm a martyr and not the victim of someone being deceitful?"

"How is putting myself first being deceitful?" Maura walked to the other side of the couch determined to resolve this issue with Jane no matter how tense the situation had become. She had lain in bed, hearing Jane toss and turn, and promised herself that this had to end. She needed Jane, she felt physically empty being so close and yet so emotionally far from her when she needed her best friend the most.

Maura ignored Jane's hesitance when she lifting Jane's feet so she could sit on the couch. She simply picked up the lanky detective's legs, sat down, and placed them on her lap. Maura rested her hands on Jane's shins and firmly pressed down when Jane tried to pull away from the physical contact.

"I'm going to have to insist that we talk about this." Maura stared straight at Jane, unwilling to let go of the physical contact she had been craving for several hours now. "If after I explain everything to you, you choose to hate me and play this passive-aggressive game, than you can rot on this couch as far as I'm concerned. But at least give me the chance to talk to you and explain. It is, after all, what you claim you wished I had done in the beginning."

Jane sat up slightly, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, arching an eyebrow at Maura as if to signal her that she could begin.

_This is going to be harder than I thought._

Maura took a deep breath, ignoring her inner voice, and began to speak softly. It was important to her that she not rationalize what she did; in Maura's mind she had made a decision and would not regret trying to find the identity of her birth mother. What she did regret was not going to Jane with the decision herself. She regretted Jane finding out through an investigation about her involvement with Paddy Doyle.

"I was shocked when he called me on my cell phone, probably as shocked as you are to know that I answered it. I knew right away that it was him when he started to speak. If I look back at it now, it seems so odd, the calmness he had in his voice considering he knew he was dying." Maura's gaze drifted off across the room to stare at the dying fire crackling its last sparks. "He asked me to meet him and said he had news about my birth mother."

Jane felt her anger rising; Doyle knew that was the only way to get Maura's attention and it was, in Jane's mind, certainly shaping up to look more and more like blackmail.

"I was surprised when I pulled up to the address he gave me. It was like any other house in the middle of South Boston with families, small children, playing outside and growing up feet away from a known killer."

"A known killer with no evidence to prosecute him."

"He's too careful," Maura said as she once again faced Jane. "Even with me, despite that he claims to love me. There will never be anyone that gets the full story on my father. When he asked me for my help, it was like a carefully choreographed dance. I asked him why I was there; he never actually gave me a straight answer until I addressed the elephant in the room."

Maura looked at Jane, her arms still folded but somewhat more relaxed.

"I asked him what was wrong with him, I hadn't seen any wounds but he was in such obvious pain. Seeing this man, even though I know what he's done, Jane, he was scared and lonely and I couldn't help but to feel empathy for him."

"Empathy or sympathy?"

"I don't feel sorry for him; maybe its karma enacting her revenge. But I'm a doctor and caring is in my nature. He was hurt; he told me he had accepted that he was dying from stomach cancer and wanted me to keep him comfortable."

"Why you?"

Maura smiled at how similar Jane's questioning was to that of her own when she had discussed the arrangement with Paddy Doyle. Maura paused for a moment, trying to decipher if she were rubbing off on Jane or Jane on her, but either way the similarity made her feel more intimate with Jane.

"I asked him the same thing; dutifully pointing out that he could pay off any number of doctors that were used to working with cancer patients," Maura paused and then smiled at Jane. "Or even just live patients."

Despite herself, Jane chuckled at Maura's statement and settled down into the cushion more to listen to the rest. Maura rubbed Jane's shin absentmindedly with her finger tips as she talked, enjoying the closeness with Jane that she had missed since this entire debacle had started.

"He told me if I did it, if I kept him comfortable while he died, he would give me my mother's name and address. He said after he was gone, there would be no reason for us to stay hidden from one another; nobody could use us to hurt him when he was already dead. As for the reason why he chose me, I believe it was to try to salvage some sort of relationship with me before he dies."

"That's fucking blackmail, Maura," Jane ground out through her teeth. "And you didn't think to come to me to tell me you were being blackmailed?"

"I tried," Maura answered calmly, certainly more calmly than she felt. "When I asked you about your definition of black and white, it was because I was trying to decide what to do. I told him I needed time, time to process and decide what I wanted."

"And so in that entire conversation of right versus wrong, you didn't think at any time to tell me Paddy Doyle had contacted you and was trying to blackmail you to take care of him?"

"I did," Maura paused hearing her own defensive tone in her words. "I did, Jane, but you were so clear on that fine line. You were so clear on your definitions of right and wrong; there was no way to have that conversation with you at that moment when my definitions were so mixed up."

"So this is my fault?"

"This isn't about fault," Maura said quickly. "Please just put yourself in my shoes for a moment and think about the choices I could have made."

Maura now rose from the couch and began to pace the length of the room as she spoke. She ran her hands over her arms, it was not just a nervous habit but she felt unbearably cold at the sudden loss of contact with Jane even if it was at her own doing.

"Do you know what it's like for me, Jane? To have grown up essentially in a boarding school that I sent myself to because it was easier on me than living with people that didn't understand me?"

Jane opened her mouth to speak but closed it when Maura continued.

"You've met my mother; if I'm Queen of the Dead she is certainly an Ice Princess."

Jane chuckled at Maura's attempt at a joke despite Maura not laughing.

"This was my chance to have the type of mother you have."

"Meddling?"

Maura smiled.

"Nosy, loud, overbearing…are any of these what you're hoping your birth mother will be?"

"Loving," Maura said softly. "Involved, afraid to let go because of the overwhelming love she would feel for me. I want to feel complete."

Maura sat down on the coffee table right beside the couch. She was facing Jane, who was now sitting straight up on the couch, her posture tense.

"You don't feel complete?" Jane's tone was semi-mocking but Maura considered the question regardless.

"I feel happy, I certainly don't want for anything in life at the moment, but money and careers don't take the place of a mother, Jane. Someone who has been there, through all of the things that we'll go through when we're that age. Imagine the wisdom I can get."

Jane now burst out laughing at the thought of anyone, especially someone like Angela Rizzoli, being able to teach Dr. Maura Isles anything.

"Why is that funny?"

"The thought of someone like Ma giving someone like you advice on anything is hard to imagine."

"There are a lot of things that your mother and I talk about now that would be nice to discuss with my own mother."

"I don't even want to know," Jane mumbled, unsuccessful at disrupting Maura's train of thought.

"Raising children," Maura began to tick off items on her fingers quickly as she spoke. "Physical changes as you get older..."

"I don't want to know."

"Sometimes we even talk about you," Maura offered as if Jane would view this as positive.

"Now I really don't want to know," Jane said loudly causing Maura to remain silent and close her gaping mouth. "What I do what to know is why you don't trust me, Maura?"

"How can you say I don't trust you?"

"Because even if we disagreed, and lord knows we have when it's come to Doyle, I've supported you!" Jane's anger was now rising to the surface; she had kept it bottled up and there was no physical way to restrain its release. "So obviously you don't trust me enough to come tell me what's going on."

Jane was now on her feet and pacing the length of the room while Maura remained seated and quiet.

"I think that's what is making me the angriest," Jane paused catching Maura's eye before correcting herself. "Scratch that, it isn't anger as much as it is hurt. When you came to me with the cell phone, after Colin died, I kept my word, Maura. Despite not liking the situation, I honored your wishes and followed the book when it came to that case. When MJ Black was killed, and he called me, I let you listen and fire back at him despite the fact that I do believe he loves you and tries to make amends. I can't remember a time where I didn't support you."

Maura's eyebrow shot up to challenge Jane, forcing her to amend her statement.

"When it comes to Doyle."

Maura crossed her arms over her chest defiantly as she stared at Jane.

"When it comes to Doyle wanting a relationship with you?" Jane's voice rose as if she were posing a question; she briefly thought about it once more before settling on her answer. "That's right; I've always supported you when it comes to your stance on not having a relationship with Doyle."

"Which is why I found it difficult to believe that you would support my relationship now as a means to find my mother. You've always been clear on supporting me hating the man."

_Damn Maura and her logic, she always manages to back me into a corner._

"Jane," Maura stared into Jane's expressive eyes, holding her gaze with her own piercing green eyes. "This isn't your fault; I accept that I didn't tell you that I was helping him. He's dying, a painful death that in its own right is justice for so many that he's hurt. All I want out of the situation is the name of my mother. Without him, I will never know."

Jane saw the desperation in her eyes and saw how much this meant to Maura. She no longer held her gaze but listened intently at Maura's next words, trying to decipher the hidden meaning.

"I've missed you, Jane; from the moment that this became something that I wasn't discussing with you, I've felt so much distance."

_I'm not the one that put it there, Maura._

"Will you please come to bed?" Maura stood up, looking hopeful that Jane would agree.

_Why am I so angry with you and yet want to hold you and make it all better._

"It's been a long day for both of us, we both could use a good nights sleep."

"I don't sleep well when I'm mad." Jane silently admitted to herself that she sounded like a spoiled child.

"You can only try," Maura chuckled, knowing Jane would at least agree to a truce tonight. "In the morning you can be angry again. We can talk about it; you can yell at me and tell me how foolhardy I was to even answer the phone."

Jane rose silently as she grabbed her blanket to take with her to the bedroom. Despite her confusing feelings, she did need a good night sleep under real covers. She entered the bedroom, feeling Maura behind her, and instantly saw Maura had resigned herself to sleeping on just one part of the bed. She had left Jane's 'normal' side of the bed untouched.

_Why do I even have a normal side of the bed with Maura?_

"I promise we can discuss it in the morning," Maura brushed past her and quickly retreated under the covers to gain warmth. "Just come to bed."

Jane approached her side of the bed and pulled back the covers. There were multiple layers that made her blanket look insignificant; mostly because it was against the coldness seeping into the cabin. She held onto the blanket, absentmindedly stroking it's softness while deep in thought.

_She's in real danger, I can't ignore that._

Jane sighed, forcing her eyes closed despite not being tired. She turned over, and then turned back over within five minutes, jarring the bed. Instead of now being taunted by the sound of the mantle clock, Jane was mocked by the red digital numbers that ticked on throughout the night.

An hour of listening to Maura breathe easily turned into two. She did the only thing that she could; she turned her back on the red digital clock and flopped over. She was now face to face with a sleeping, but beautiful Maura Isles. Maura's hair was messy; parts of it shaded her face as the moon blanketed the bedroom in soft light.

_Why can't I fucking figure out my feelings? _

Jane scooted closer and placed her fingertips on Maura's arm. She smiled with Maura moved, a sigh escaping her parted lips. Jane's body was suddenly on high alert; when Maura unknowingly placed her hand on Jane's hip she had to blink back tears.

_Why does it hurt so much that you kept this from me?_

Maura moved her hand to caress Jane's hip before her barely audible words fell out of her mouth.

"You're not sleeping."

"I love your ability to state the obvious, Maura, it's so endearing." Jane couldn't stop her words flowing out freely dripping in sarcasm.

"Care to share so we both can get some sleep?"

"Insomnia." Jane was proud of her excuse; it was general enough in explanation but simple enough to be the truth.

"Did you ever fall to sleep or just can't stay asleep?" Maura's voice was still laced with sleep and she made no effort to open her eyes.

"What difference does that make?"

"It determines what pattern of insomnia you have; sleep-onset or nocturnal awakenings."

_Even in her sleep she's a genius who just can't help herself._

"I'm sorry I woke you." Jane pushed a piece of hair off of Maura's forehead as she closed her eyes relishing in Maura's soft touches on her hip.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Maura's voice was starting to wake up and Jane was now desperate to keep her asleep.

"You're well off; clearly you can afford to pay me more. Just go back to sleep, it'll pass."

Maura curled up next to Jane and drifted back off, her breathing deepened and her hand stopped moving. Jane finally risked opening her eyes to watch the woman next to her. Jane's body was on overload; her hand was shaking as she reached out and touched Maura's cheek.

"I wouldn't know how to explain my thoughts to you," Jane barely whispered as she leaned in and gently brushed her lips over Maura's forehead. "Because I'm not sure what scares me more; you in danger or the danger you are for me."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"What the…." Jane grabbed the pillow Maura had used during the night and placed it over her head quickly. The sounds coming from the kitchen were familiar; she could easily make out the sounds of pots and pans. After all, she had lived in Angela Rizzoli's house growing up and lost count of how many times she was awoken by the same sounds. She could clearly make out Maura's voice humming, but the music she was humming to was something Jane could swear she had only heard in an elevator in a very upscale building in Boston.

Giving up on going back to sleep, Jane scratched her head after she stood and stretched; she hadn't had that much sleep, just enough to stiffen her lower back and shoulders. She yawned as she slowly opened the bedroom door, watching Maura move around the kitchen.

Jane wasn't surprised that Maura could cook; she had proven her skills more times than not. She was, however, accustomed to Maura having _zero_ free time to use her skills and resorting to take-out when they would dine at one another's homes.

"I could sleep all day with this boring music playing." Jane couldn't help but smile when Maura turned around displaying a smudge of flour on her cheek.

"Did I wake you?" Maura began to whisk the ingredients in her bowl once more while leaning back on countertop to converse with Jane. "I'm just trying to make this a little bit more like home. When I cook, I listen to some of my favorite pieces of music."

"If this were like home we would be surrounded by Chinese takeout containers."

"That's _your_ home, Jane," Maura smiled, thankful for the ease with which the conversation began to flow.

"That's right, I forgot. You prefer pasta with organic baby tomatoes and a side of face licking from Giovanni"

"We both know I put a stop to it before the face licking, _Babe_." Maura laughed as she emphasized her epithet for Jane used as an excuse as to why she couldn't date Giovanni. "I actually made you pancakes, although I'm not sure of my ability to make them into cute little animal shapes."

"To make it more like my _childho_od home?"

"Perhaps," Maura smiled and Jane instantly got lost in her piercing green eyes. "I'm trying to build upon our progress yesterday and offer an olive branch."

Jane walked over to the table that had been set with mismatched silverware. She had no idea how to comment on or receive the olive branch that Maura so bluntly declared as offered.

"My fork doesn't match my knife." Jane reverted to humor as her classic avoidance technique. "How on earth are you surviving, Dr. Isles?" she asked as Maura placed a plate of pancakes in front of her.

"My music calms my tension." Maura whirled around once more toward the griddle to pour her own pancakes with the additional batter that she had made from scratch.

"The same music that will have me falling face first into the syrup."

"Wagner?"

"No, Aunt Jemima." Jane smiled as she held up the plastic, female shaped bottle before soaking her pancakes in syrup.

"I meant Wagner puts you to sleep?" Maura flipped her pancakes and watched as the bubbles began to form once more due to the heat. "He is often regarded as one of the greatest composures of music in the Romantic period of classical music, Jane. He was best known for his elaborate use of leitmotifs."

"Just the use of that word makes me want to dive face first into a puddle of Aunt Jemima."

"Funny." Maura slid her pancakes off the spatula and placed them on a plate. She took the seat right next to Jane and carefully drizzled syrup onto her pancakes in a carefully constructed pattern.

_What was this about romance? She's playing her version of sex music?_

"I love the Romantic period of classical music," Maura closed her eyes as she held a dainty bite of pancake to her lips. "The stories were so rich in history and subplots."

"Just like the movies you make me watch that are rich with sub-titles."

Jane scraped the remaining syrup from her plate and licked it from her fork. She watched as Maura enjoyed her pancake, moaning as she slowly chewed.

_Dear god she's moaning over pancakes._

"If you want it to be more like _my_ home, we should be listening to my music. I only listen to this music when I'm stuck in an elevator."

"I'm sorry, Jane; I'm fresh out of Puff Daddy."

"P Diddy, Maura." Jane corrected her with a smile ignoring Maura's confused look.

"There's always the Grateful Dead," Maura suggested, instantly regretting her words when a cloud of disappointment came over Jane's face. The reference to the Grateful Dead was not intentional, but Maura instantly realized that Jane connected the musical reference to the day in her office when they discussed the difference between right and wrong. "I'm sorry; I'm not trying to be insensitive or cavalier about our current situation."

Jane stood and walked her dishes toward the sink. She quickly added dish soap to the water and watched bubbles take form. Her back was to Maura but she could feel her eyes on her, waiting for her to react.

"I'm not angry," Jane took a deep breath but continued to stare out the window above the sink. She wasn't about to face Maura at her most vulnerable. "I was…._am_…hurt. I didn't want to discuss it last night because I don't understand why I'm feeling this way."

"It's a natural reaction to you feeling left out of a life decision by someone that you care about."

"My, we think highly of ourselves. Did I show you the secret handshake into the Jane- Rizzoli-cares-about-me club? It takes a lot to earn it, believe me."

_Hide feelings with humor, classic, Jane._

"I don't need a handshake to know you care. And honestly, it goes both ways," Maura walked over to the sink and placed her dish in the bubbles allowing her hand to gently graze Jane's on the way out. "My decision wasn't meant to hurt you. I just hope you can understand why I did it."

"Blackmail isn't hard to understand, Maura."

Jane finished rinsing the dishes and sat down on the couch, opening the file on top of a rather large stack.

"The silence is deafening," Maura whispered from behind Jane before coming around the couch to sit next to her. "I want things to be normal."

"Someone's trying to kill you, Maura, that's not normal however much you want to wish it to be."

"If wishing doesn't work than what does, Jane?"

"Solving this case." Jane bit on the end of her pen, clearly deep in thought and barely registering Maura's words. When she withdrew the pen, she looked upward toward the ceiling as if it helped her find answers.

"Then I want to help, to show you that I sincerely am sorry that I made you feel like I didn't trust you."

"I know you want to return to see your father," Jane bluntly stated.

_Why beat around the bush at what her motivation is?_

"I'd like to meet my mother," Maura said defiantly. "I'm not interested in suddenly developing a relationship with my father."

Jane sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off her already developing headache.

"I trust you to keep me safe, Jane." Maura placed her hand on Jane's tense shoulder. Maura saw Jane's jaw clench, obviously things weren't back to normal between them.

"Keeping you safe likely means taking your father down, Maura. I won't pretend that it doesn't involve me trying to bring him to justice."

Maura could sense that Jane was attempting to reign in her emotions. When she finally sat down next to her and saw the fear in Jane's eyes, she began to blink back tears.

"I think he needs to be brought to justice," Maura said quietly. She could almost see the walls beginning to erect inside of Jane Rizzoli as she leaned back into the couch. "I don't agree with his lifestyle and the things he's done, Jane."

"But you've helped him," Jane closed her eyes briefly to ward off her own tears. They were tears she couldn't even explain. "Instead of coming to us and letting us handle it, you helped him, Maura."

"May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you are going, and the insight to know when you have gone too far."

"So that's it?" Jane arched her eyebrow in disbelief as she ran her fingers through her hair. "You're offering some random quote in lieu of an explanation?"

"I'm merely trying to illustrate that not everything is crystal clear in the moment. If I could go back and involve you from the beginning before things spiraled out of control I would."

"I'm working on this case."

Maura clearly could read Jane's body language and facial expressions even without her research. Jane was signaling the end of the conversation.

Maura stood up, hesitating for a moment, before she grabbed one of her medical journals from the coffee table and ventured into the bedroom alone. Jane waited until she was certain Maura was out of the room before letting out the deep breath she barely knew she had been holding.

Jane's eyes pored over the first file; it was on a known rival of Paddy Doyle's and certainly a group that would love control over the docks. Jane made some notes in the margins and after reviewing three additional case files she decided on calling Frost.

"Hey there," Frost's voice was a welcomed distraction for Jane. She could tell that he was attempting to talk quietly so she opted for small talk to allow him to get to a more private location.

"I miss civilization."

"You should enjoy yourself, partner," Frost chuckled as he shut the door to one of the vacant interview rooms. "No traffic, no murders, no psycho ex-lovers trippin' out on PCP turnin' over cars..."

"Light week, eh?"

"Let's just say you've been missed."

"It's been like what, Frost, twenty-four hours tops?" Jane stood and quietly walked out the back door and sat on one of the wood piles she made the previous day. It was cooler than she thought and she instantly wished she had had the forethought to put on her jeans rather than keeping her pajamas on. "Anything break there?"

"Korsak has done most of the work on that one." Frost leaned back in the chair to begin updating Jane on Patrick Doyle's case. "We've got a few things, but we're under the gun here, Jane."

"Anymore vics?"

"One rather botched attempt at Paddy Doyle's fourth or fifth in command. This time there wasn't a picture sent to warn anybody, the lucky bastard escaped with a few scrapes and bruises. It seems Docs disappearance has upped the ante with these guys."

"What's Doyle saying?"

"Not much since Doc left." Frost rocked in the chair, a nervous habit he refused to try to break. "He's in a lot of pain, Jane. Korsak's been trying to get him to talk about his business; even he was shocked that someone went after another one of his guys so soon."

"We're going to have to take this one family at a time," Jane said.

"I don't honestly know if we have time for that. We've got to get as much from him as we can as fast as he can. Before he starts into whatever hallucinating he's going to go through."

"Who said he would hallucinate? Someone can't possibly know that."

"He said Doc told him."

"Has he said anything else about her?" Jane bit the tip of her thumb nail slightly before venturing into exactly what she wanted to know. "Is he going to tell her who her mother is, Frost?"

"If he plans on sharing any information on her mother, rest assured it will be with her directly. He won't say shit to me or Korsak on the subject. In fact, he's trying to cut us out of everything claiming he can handle it on his own."

"He's dying right?"

"Seems like it," Frost confirmed. "He certainly is in a lot of pain and takes a lot of meds to try to control it."

"I'm going to have some questions for him. I need you to get over there and let me talk to him on your phone."

"Anything I need to know about ahead of time?"

"He's got so many enemies, Frost, it's hard to know where to start," Jane admitted. "If I talk to him I'll know more; get that gut feeling ya know?"

"How's Doc holding up?"

"Shockingly well," Jane fired back, instantly feeling bad about her tone of voice. "You'd think she could care less that she's in danger."

"Maybe she just feels safe with you?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm trying not to speak."

"Why would you do that?" Frost said raising his voice an octave for good measure. "Now is the time she needs her friends the most; you're her BFF."

Jane smiled at the humor in Frost's voice teasing her about her relationship with Maura. It was a running joke between her, Frost, and Korsak. Most times, Jane had a witty retort about her relationship with the ME, but at the moment she found herself confused and somber about the topic.

"Is Korsak with him now?"

"Roger that," Frost said. "These phones are ancient so he'll have no problem answering it."

Jane hung up and quickly called the other number programmed in her phone. She could hear in Korsak's voice the frustration she also felt; dealing with this case was maddening.

"Hey, Jane," Korsak said as he stepped away from Patrick Doyle's bed. "How are you gals doin'?"

"We're fine; I need to talk to Doyle."

"I'm not sure you'll get anything out of him. He's in and out, Janie."

"Well hand him the phone and let's see if he's in."

Jane waited a moment before hearing Patrick Doyle's voice come across the line. She had heard it, of course, when he had called her cell phone after he was shot. He had, at that point in time, the audacity to tell her to take care of Maura. Now he had put her in a position where Jane had no choice.

"I need to talk to you." Jane skipped all pleasantries knowing Patrick Doyle would appreciate it.

"How's my daughter?"

"Alive." Jane wasn't in the mood for sugar coating the obvious. "No thanks to what you've involved her in."

"I didn't know they would mistake her for my heir apparent. She hadn't been around me that long, Detective Rizzoli."

"Long enough that you put her in danger, Doyle."

"Can I talk to her?" Jane was surprised at the sound of desperation in Patrick Doyle's voice.

"When I'm done talking to you," Jane shot back. "The sooner we solve this thing the sooner we can come home and then you can call her on your own time."

"You're obviously mad."

"Who's after Maura?"

"I'm working on it, Detective, you just keep her safe."

"I'm working on it, Doyle. But you owe me some answers, and I know you've been digging around yourself."

"You know that we both want the same thing right?" Patrick Doyle closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through the pain. "We both want her safe."

"No, we don't want entirely the same thing. See, I wouldn't blackmail someone I claimed to love to get what I wanted. I wouldn't hold the one thing that matters most to that person over their head."

"And is it blackmail if I plan on telling her once it's safe to do so, Detective?"

"Save us all the trouble and tell her now." Jane knew Patrick Doyle wouldn't take kindly to her suggestion.

"Do you truly think we're all that different, Detective?"

"Oh you bet I do." Jane was determined in her conviction.

"Do you remember the big break in your career?" Patrick Doyle paused, despite knowing that Jane wasn't going to provide him with her acknowledgment. "It was in 2001; three major drug dealers were shot in the chest. Likely one of them in the very same spot they pinned a medal on yours for killing those three men that fateful day. I've always admired you for that."

"What does this have to do with Maura and keeping her safe?"

"You wage your war on drugs your way, I'll do it mine."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're waging a war to clean up the streets despite the fact that your docks import drugs?"

"Last year I made a decision, Detective Rizzoli." Jane could hear the anguish in Paddy Doyle's voice and closed her eyes to settle her nerves. "There was a rather large shipment of drugs coming into the docks. The word on the streets was that it was targeted at some of the….higher upstanding educational facilities…."

"Trust fund kids."

"Who have the money and the means to get in and out of trouble quite well," Jane offered.

Patrick Doyle found promise in that he and Jane were agreeing on even a small point. "It's my docks; I run them. I don't dabble in drugs, Detective, especially not when they're targeted at kids."

"What kind of drugs?"

"Opium," Patrick Doyle smiled at Jane's silence. He could imagine that Jane began to connect some of the dots on her own. He certainly found her more capable than her colleague whom he refused to talk to under any circumstances.

"So someone is bringing in opium to convert it." Jane began to pace outside near her stacks of wood

"It's much easier to bring in opium and then convert it to morphine and heroin once it gets here."

"Lesser sentence and easier to fly under the radar," Jane agreed.

"Plus cheaper to buy when it's in the opium poppy form, the seeds are almost damn near impossible to detect if shipped correctly."

"How did you know the shipments were coming in?"

"I have ears on the streets."

"So you ordered a hit on the importer," Jane followed his logic easily. "Who was the importer?"

"That's not what's important, Detective. I can take care of my own dirty laundry."

"So they want to get even with you over a shipment or two gone bad?" Jane asked, not so clear on Doyle's innuendo.

"If it were that easy it would be over," Doyle paused and then decided that if Maura trusted Jane with her life, it was time to offer a bit more to the stubborn detective. "They want control of the docks. Opium is child's play, Detective Rizzoli. Do you know where it comes from?"

_I'm sure Maura would know and would be able to recite the exact locations and how it's grown._

Jane looked inside to see the empty room she had stepped away from; clearly Maura wasn't there to supplement her knowledge at this moment.

"Legally it's grown in India and some parts of Asia, but illegally, it is grown in Pakistan. The border between India and Pakistan is often blurred when it comes to their crops. Pakistan doesn't grow it like India for medicinal purposes; even though now I'm thankful for any help I can get."

"So someone is after Maura that has ties to Pakistan?" Jane suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "Are you telling me that you're mixed up with terrorist shit, Doyle?"

"I obviously don't have ties to those organizations, Detective, but you can see why I need Maura kept safe while I go digging to find out who among the Irish families here does."

"Why take out your organization?" Jane's tone was demanding, unyielding regardless of how tired Patrick Doyle had grown throughout the conversation.

"Because we won't let the docks go. They need control of the docks to control what gets shipped in. You're doing your part, Detective, I'm doing my own despite the monster you think I am."

"And what happens to Maura while this showdown happens between you and whatever other crime family is jockeying for the docks? You plan on living up to your end of the bargain?"

Patrick Doyle began to mumble, it was clear to Jane that she had exhausted her time for the day and would be stuck spending her time writing down notes to chat with Korsak and Frost later. She sighed when someone handed Korsak his phone back signaling the end of her conversation.

"Korsak, I've got some leads to start with. I need to jot down some notes so when you get back to the station call me with Frost and we can circle back."

Jane hung up the phone, clearly not as optimistic as Korsak had been about their leads. Jane had known that Korsak had been excused for the conversation; it was obvious that Doyle was insistent upon dealing only with Jane. She wasn't sure of the intent behind it, whether it was her relationship with Maura that had given her the 'in' or some sort of dysfunctional respect he had for her.

Jane ventured inside, grabbing a pen and paper from one of the files and beginning to jot down her discussion with Doyle. The significance of her leads was heavy; the implications of the news were disastrous. Jane blinked back tears as she finished her notes and checked the time to ensure she had a few moments.

_I owe her the truth, even if it scares me to death. _

Jane walked into the bedroom to find Maura in bed, with her head propped up on a few of the bed pillows. Her eyes were closed and the medical journal she had taken to read was draped across her lap. Her hair had fallen over her face, shadowing a small part of it.

Jane eased herself onto the corner of the bed, the lump in her throat rising as she thought of the implications of her news. She had known Maura was in trouble; Jane had no idea how deep the trouble went until moments ago.

Jane pushed Maura's hair off her face causing Maura to stir. When Maura opened her eyes, she saw the tears threatening to spill over from Jane's eyes. She sat up straight and reached out for her friend.

_Please don't ask me. Please don't leave me, Maura._

"Jane, what's going on?"

Jane couldn't speak but simply leaned her head to the side when Maura's palm came up to touch her cheek gently.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The look on Jane's face clearly indicated something was wrong. Maura struggled with coming out of her sleepy haze as she stroked Jane's cheek. Jane's skin was softer than she had imagined it would be; in fact Maura wasn't certain this wasn't yet another dream she was having of Jane. They were common, too common for her liking, but she couldn't resist relishing in the intimate touch she was having with her best friend.

Maura's fantasy was short-lived when she felt dampness coat her palm. She focused on Jane's face seeing the tears slowly falling. Maura had witnessed Jane cry once, at the hands of Charles Hoyt when he attacked them in prison and Jane had bravely saved them both killing Hoyt in the process. These tears were not an emotional and physical release attributed to the adrenaline rush like when she killed Hoyt; there was real fear dancing in Jane's expressive eyes.

"You're scaring me."

"Join the club." Jane's voice was gruff, more so than usual.

"Why are you scared?"

"You." Jane coughed to regain some composure as well as her voice.

"Of me?"

"For you," Jane said softly as she wiped her own tear, replaying the conversation she had with Doyle and the seriousness of the parties involved. It was ridiculous to imagine that a BPD Homicide Detective could go up against something with ties all the way to the Middle East and win; even if it was to protect someone she loved.

_You're scared because you love her._

"What's happened?"

_How long have you loved her, Rizzoli, and just ignored all the signs._

Jane couldn't help but to reach out and brush Maura's hand. It was selfish, she didn't do it to reassure Maura that all would be okay; she did it to experience the feeling of touching Maura after admitting to herself that she loved her.

Jane got up off the bed and began to pace, taking care to not face Maura until she had her emotions under control. Maura was patient; she had already seen the cracks in Jane's façade and they both knew she wouldn't simply dismiss it.

"I talked to your father." Jane instantly transformed herself into a homicide detective. Her posture was stiff, the eyes now staring at Maura were unreadable, and when Jane ran her hands through her unruly hair Maura instantly recognized it as a release of frustration.

_Don't shut me out, Jane._

"I thought he was my sperm donor." Maura waited for a response from Jane that never came. "He's still alive then?"

"How close did you get to him, Maura?"

"Not more than I was previously. He was sick; I was helping him preserve what he thought as his dignity."

"How much do you know about his business?"

"The same as before," Maura struggled to remain calm and allow Jane her interrogation. "Probably less than you do at this point."

_How do I tell her she's in even more danger than I originally thought? I protected her, just barely, from a psychopath serial killer but can't protect her from her own father._

"He's involved in more than we ever knew, Maura," Jane growled as she ventured back into the living room with the expectation that Maura would follow. She wasn't disappointed when Maura sat down on the couch in front of her files and began to thumb through them.

"What more could he do to humanity that he already hasn't thrust upon us?"

"Terrorism."

Jane waited for Maura's reaction and although she had to wait for the word to register, she wasn't disappointed when Maura's eyes met her own. Maura's were wide; she was shaking her head in disbelief.

"I know he's a monster, Jane, but terrorism? He's big in Boston, I'm not sure that extends globally."

_God, please tell me I don't share DNA with a terrorist._

"His docks provided access for drug money to be made and likely funneled back to the Middle East," Jane said sitting next to Maura waiting for her rather slow processing of information to finish.

"Are you telling me that he's funneling drugs into Boston from the Middle East?" Jane was surprised that Maura was so slow on the uptake.

"I'm telling you that he knew about it, claims to have stopped a shipment, and that this killing spree someone has begun is over making the docks accessible for ease of delivery. It's his own version of NAFTA."

"NAFTA is restricted to North America only, Jane." Maura had completely missed the level of sarcasm in Jane's voice. "This is larger than Patty Doyle. I know he has a lot of power in Boston, but this sounds like it's a great deal bigger than Boston. Why Boston anyway? It's not the easiest place to get into, or most known for trafficking drugs."

"Maybe that's why." Jane began to also flip through the files opening a rather thick one and glossing over the words as she spoke. "Miami is set up to expect this sort of thing. New York has been on high alert since they were attacked; Boston's quiet, unassuming, maybe it makes the perfect place to smuggle something in and not get caught. I don't know that every port in the United States is controlled by a high ranking mobster who has their own reasons for not involving the police in shady shipments."

"So he's an easy target?" Maura raised her eyebrow to question Jane. "Assuming you're right, which has yet to be proven with evidence that doesn't involve _winging it_, you don't assume that he would have taken care of the problem himself? I agree that he can't draw attention to the situation even if he did discover it because it would shine the spotlight on him as well. But Patrick Doyle's history shows he'd just take care of the problem himself."

"What if he tried and failed?"

"When has he ever failed at killing someone?" Maura reasoned back.

"He hasn't, but this wasn't about a hit, it started with drugs. It sounds like he believed he had taken care of the situation when he stopped the initial shipment. Apparently he didn't count on somebody coming at it from a different angle and attacking his organization itself." Jane was now feeling more confident in her ability to close this case if she found the one needle in the haystack. "Whoever is doing this wants the docks. They want the docks for drug shipments and there are plenty of crime families that dabble in drugs. We need a big one; a known rival of Doyle's cross-referenced with drug trafficking from the Narcotics Unit to match."

"So let's start there." Maura grabbed another file and opened it up leaning back on the couch with her leg crossed to begin reading. "We can start with trying to narrow the investigation to those crime families that are involved in drugs. Once we have a list, you can have Frost cross-reference it against the Narcotics files at BPD and see if there's a match."

"Most of them are involved in drugs one way or another," Jane noticed she was whining but nevertheless expressing her opinion. "It's a fucking needle in a haystack. We need a tighter lead. We'll be here forever if we don't narrow it further."

"It's all we have right now, Jane." Maura placed her hand on top of Jane's and offered a reassuring smile.

_When did she begin to read me so well, what I need?_

The emotions Jane had felt during the past ten minutes discussing the case with Maura certainly covered both ends of the spectrum. She had felt scared, angry, confident in her theory, but overwhelmed at the daunting task of proving it.

"They aren't all involved in trafficking drugs," Maura said with a hint of disgust in her voice as she read through the first file on her half of the stack. "For example this lovely family traffics young girls into prostitution. Can you believe the statement of this immoral and depraved human being was a justification that even in hard economic times prostitution and the sex industry still makes money?"

"These aren't nice people, Maura."

Both women continued reading in silence; perusing each file for any hint of an involvement in drugs, from suspicions of the officers involved to any concrete information. The pile was slowly decreasing between them, but no solid leads had been produced before Jane's stomach growled loudly and she realized that perhaps her stomach wasn't upset from nerves but rather lack of food.

"We skipped lunch," Maura announced as she rubbed her temples to ward off her pending headache. "We need a break. I'll make us something."

Jane watched as Maura rose from the couch and journeyed to the kitchen. She began to rummage through the cupboards in search of an easily prepared answer for lunch. Maura spied a load of bread and removed four slices before reclosing the package and searching for lunchmeat.

_Is this what a relationship is about? Sarah Lee Bread and teamwork?_

"I keep having this vision of someone's child engaging in drug abuse and ending up on my table as a statistic. His statement that he has never killed women or innocent people is far from the truth if he's involved in drugs."

"Some would say that it is the junkie's fault."

Maura looked up to see Jane staring back at her as she piled various lunchmeats on top of the bread for both of them.

"Is that what _you_ think?"

"Yeah, I do. I can't think of _any_ cases when I was in the Drug Unit where someone physically held someone else down and shoved a pill down their throat or a needle in their arm." Jane arched her eyebrow to emphasize her point. "You can't score if you don't shoot, Maura."

"While I can infer what you mean by the somewhat overused and popular sports analogy, I'm not sure that I totally agree. Look at some of the medicinal purposes of drugs and everyday people that become hooked trying to simply manage their pain."

"Oh, so it's ok to get hooked on drugs when you're doing it with the excuse that you're just trying to manage your pain? I know a lot of people that go through things that don't get hooked on drugs. It's a cop-out."

"There are plenty of pain management techniques and treatments, Jane, but I am often cautious about making assumptions on patients that become dependant upon medicine to manage their pain. There's a fine line between a psychological need to have medication which certainly would imply addiction and physically needing it to take the edge off."

Maura handed Jane a plate with her sandwich on it and placed her own on the coffee table next to the stack of folders she had taken responsibility to read.

"I think using medicine as a short-term relief from pain while one is receiving treatment is advisable given what pain itself can do to the body."

"Most people don't get hooked on Tylenol, Maura." Jane had already eaten half of her sandwich and placed the remaining half back on the plate to brush the crumbs on her pants off onto the floor.

"I'm hardly suggesting they do, but for treatment of curable cancers, management of pain after operations or an accident, many patients require more than Tylenol, and often for a long period. These are hardly unjustifiable reasons."

"But if their disease isn't curable then we let them suffer?" Jane was clearly mocking Maura as she finished her sandwich quickly.

"No, but then it hardly matters if they're addicted to pain meds given they won't last long anyway."

Jane allowed her head to fall into her hands as she began to mumble incoherently to Maura. It was one of the many behaviors that Maura simply didn't understand but found endearing because it could only be classified as _'so Jane'_ in nature.

"Do you have entire conversations talking through your hands with other people?" Maura smirked as she reached out and touched Jane's shoulder to prompt her lifting her head.

"I said," Jane overly annunciated to prove her point, "I can't believe we're actually having this conversation which is turning out like our investigation, going nowhere fast."

"The use of habit forming drugs for medicinal purposes has been an age-old debate, Jane. I hardly thought we were going to solve it today."

Jane shot Maura her patented look; the look that clearly signified her annoyance at a discussion, person, or food. Maura couldn't help but to chuckle causing Jane to dramatically place the folder she was holding on her discard pile and pick up another one.

"I'm just saying…" Jane sighed as Maura couldn't allow the moment of silence to fall between them for too long. "If I were suffering from a terminal disease or someone that I loved was suffering, I would hope that drugs could be useful to prevent pain and give me some dignity. I was thankful for the pain medication you were on when you shot yourself. Imagine how you would have felt trying to recover without it."

"I didn't take it when I was home," Jane admitted quietly. "I was afraid of actually becoming addicted to it. So that proves my point."

"You have no idea what it was like to watch you struggle." Maura's voice was laced with sadness and her eyes clouded up as she blinked back tears. "If you did so because you didn't want to take the aid of a potentially addictive drug, I wish you would have told me that so I could put your mind at ease. The levels of morphine they were giving you at the hospital in ICU were reduced over time. The amount you were given to take at home was minimal. It would have taken much more for you to become addicted, Jane."

"I don't remember being in the ICU on pain meds." Jane tried to catch Maura's eye but Maura stared off across the room focusing on the fireplace on the opposite wall.

"I remember it all," Maura said sadly. "I remember you on the street and me thinking I was going to lose you. I remember every surgery, every grimace of pain, Jane."

_I never wanted to hurt you, Maura._

"If someone who has no chance of surviving can have a little time in peace physically, I'm an advocate for that."

"Right, because someone like Doyle deserves to be peaceful when he didn't provide that to any of his victims." Jane quickly changed the subject, opening another folder while her mind began to process the venom behind her words.

"Ugh! We aren't finding any crime families that traffic drugs as their M.O.!" Jane was becoming frustrated and then she stopped her rant suddenly, turning to face Maura. "People trafficking, money laundering, outright murder to avenge another person's senseless death, but drugs? None of those when you _want_ to find them!"

They worked in silence for another hour before Jane slammed her folder down and began to rub her eyes to better focus. She was tired, her brain was working overtime, and with no leads there was no way for her to process her gut instincts. Yet, as she looked over at Maura weeding through her stack of files, she was taken aback at the surge of emotion that she felt.

_When did you start to notice the crease on her forehead when she's concentrating, Rizzoli?_

"What were you keeping him comfortable with, Maura?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I just want…I need to know. I need to know the entire story; I need to feel like there's not this huge elephant in the room that I don't ask about because I'm afraid of the answer. I wouldn't have helped him, not under the same set of circumstances, but I can't ignore that you did. I just…I need to know."

"A variety of medications and treatments were being explored because he failed to manage his pain consistently and early; it becomes an uphill battle to gain relief."

"Are we talking Tylenol or shit with street value?"

"Something like acetaminophen is considered a first-line medication in the treatment of pain and is often ineffective when you let pain get out of control or when the pain is long term and at a higher level. I recommended morphine which is a common practice for terminal cancer patients."

"Where did you get it, Maura?" Jane stood and began pacing in front of Maura as her mind began to process her gut instinct. "Did you write a prescription?"

"No, I can't do that since I'm the Chief Medical Examiner. My patients don't require prescriptions."

"How did you get it then?" Jane's eyes locked with Maura's as she began to connect the pieces of her theory.

"I didn't get it for him. He told me to write out a list and he would get everything I needed. When I saw him last, he had the supplies as well as the drugs already."

"Who did you give the list to?"

"Michael Byrne," Maura said quietly as she struggled to read Jane's emotions.

"Did he get it himself?" Jane's questions were coming faster, fire coming back into her eyes as she began to rifle through the files looking for a specific one.

"I don't honestly know," Maura said confused but willing to follow Jane's logic if she would ever share it with her. "What are you thinking?"

"Morphine and drugs like it are tightly regulated and controlled. How did they get a hold of it so quickly?"

"Jane, this is Patty Doyle," Maura began, leaning back into the couch. "I'm sure he has connections that can get him almost anything."

"Oh, I don't doubt that for one second. But for an organization that claims to have no connections to illegal drugs, they seem to have put their hands on some fairly easily."

"That's a pretty big leap, Jane." Maura eyed Jane skeptically.

"Doyle told me that this all started with a shipment of opium coming into the docks that he stopped," Jane sat down and began to scribble her random thoughts down as she spoke. "He told me that it was left as opium because it was easier to conceal in raw form and then convert it when it got here. I asked him who the importer was, assuming he had taken them out for using the docks without flying it by him."

"Who was it?"

"That's just it." Jane now locked eyes with Maura once more. "He said he handles his own dirty laundry. I don't think we're looking for another crime family. He just let us believe that. I think we're looking for someone within _his_ organization."

"Why wouldn't he tell us that?"

"Because he doesn't want us to know. He wants to handle it himself. He's letting us chase our tail." Jane felt her anger rise up at Doyle's games.

"Then why involve BPD at all?" Maura asked.

"You," Jane offered. "He wanted you protected and didn't think he could do that himself right now."

"I'm not so sure…"

"Think about it, Maura! It's perfect; the person would need to know enough to know Doyle was sick, they would need to know the hierarchy of his organization, they would need to be close enough to know you were coming and going."

Jane pulled out her phone and hit the speed dial on it to connect with Frost. She didn't want to tip her hand to Doyle, not before getting enough information to risk going back and dealing with him in person. Frost quickly answered the phone and sounded panicked.

"Jane," Frost's voice was barely a whisper. "I'm glad you called."

"Listen, Frost, we're moving in the wrong direction. It isn't another family after Doyle and the docks; it's Doyle's organization turning on him. It's someone inside and we need to start peeling back the layers on his own family before we let him lead us to another!"

"That makes what I'm about to tell you ten times worse." Frost paused before completing his sentence. "Doyle's gone, Jane."

"What are you saying? He's dead?"

"Korsak and I are at his house; it looks like a fuckin' grenade went off in here, paper and pictures everywhere. I don't know what's going on, Jane, but Doyle's not here."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Jane ran her hand through her unruly hair in frustration. Kicking the phone onto speaker, she began to pace the length of the small room as she listened to Frost describe Patrick Doyle's house and the state of disarray it was in. Her eyes remained focused on the floor where her feet paced back and forth, she was hardly aware of Maura's reaction to the news her father was missing.

"There's no sign of forced entry," Frost looked at Korsak who nodded in agreement. "There's no blood, Jane; if someone took him there wasn't enough of a fight to draw blood. Doyle's crew wouldn't just stand by and let someone take him would they?"

"If my theory is right and it's someone in his organization, they might stand by and watch him be escorted out. I suppose it would depend on whether they were aligned with the old or the new."

"The new hasn't been defined has it?" Frost asked.

"Who knows," Jane shot back. "I wouldn't think so if they were knocking off Doyle's upper management trying to get the competition reduced."

"So if we go on the theory that it's someone on the inside," Korsak offered as he walked around the room that had been converted to Doyle's bedroom, "it would have to be someone that would be trusted enough to be let in. No forced entry."

"Agreed." Jane squinted as she batted around theories with Korsak; a habit that she swore made her think clearer. "No forced entry means someone either had a key or could just knock and be let in. It screams inside job to me, Korsak."

"They get entrance into the house and then what…..ask him to leave nicely?"

"How does a terminal patient get up from their bed?" Jane asked. "Is there a walker or wheelchair there?"

"Both." Korsak spotted them in the corner of the room.

"Look for a Shillelagh." Maura's voice was soft, barely audible causing Jane to quickly glance at her to ensure she had actually spoken.

"What?"

"Look for a Shillelagh; it's a walking stick handmade in Ireland and bearing the same name as the town that is traditionally known for making them. I remembered seeing a Shillelagh and noting that it seemed out of place, like it had been purchased long before sterile hospital supplies were needed. It bore the crest of the Doyle family," Maura said sadly as Jane stopped walking and sat down next to Maura to allow her to hear the speakerphone better.

"So we're looking for a big stick, that's all we've got?"

"You'll know if you see it," Maura assured Frost. "It's made from blackthorn. Blackthorn is the common name for Prunus spinosa, and it's considered the perfect species to make a Shillelagh from."

"Nothin' around here looks like a big stick, Jane," Korsak said after confirming the adjoining rooms didn't have a Shillelagh in them.

"So he walked out using his version of a cane, that takes care of the how" Jane concluded.

"Actually it doesn't explain the how….he _was_ dying right?" Frost watched as Korsak shrugged his shoulders as a response.

"He didn't look good to me," Korsak agreed.

"Then how did he get his ass out of bed?" Frost surveyed the room once more trying to look beyond what he had already cataloged in his mind to find the missing clue. "Asshole should get the Oscar for best actor because he probably wasn't even sick."

"He's dying. He wasn't faking." Maura rested her head on her hands as she stared forward avoiding Jane's gaze. "It's my professional opinion that he's likely experiencing the surge of energy one gets when they are close to dying. It's common for cancer patients, or others suffering from terminal illnesses to have a burst of energy or clarity as the end nears. It's not a well explored phenomenon because most attribute it to a spiritual awakening, citing faith as the source of strength before meeting the patient's version of a higher being."

"So you're telling me that he got up, used an Irish walking stick to leave his house and, do what….go where?" Jane wasn't even attempting to hide her aggravation. "I need to get back there and find that bastard."

"You can't!" Korsak's voice startled both Jane and Maura. "She's in even more danger now that he's on the move. It escalates things, Jane. Whoever wants control over his organization is likely to get really nervous if they think he can still function."

"If the problem started with the docks, and control of the docks is at the heart of this entire mess, I'd venture to say he might head there first." Jane leaned back and closed her eyes trying to determine the whereabouts of Patrick Doyle. Every theory had holes, every instinct screamed out for Maura's safety, not Paddy's dealings. She tried hard, to no avail, to quiet her gut regarding Maura and focus on finding Doyle. "Frost check the docks; I would bet that there's some activity going on down there if this whole mess is over control of them."

"Roger that, partner."

"Korsak, check on Maura's house and the morgue. Let's face it, if they think she's next in line they aren't going to waste a lot of time with Doyle. They'll be after her in no time. When you're done with that, go through the house with a fine-toothed comb. There's something there that we're missing; I can feel it."

"I'll get Frankie to come help. Maybe a set of fresh eyes will help, just as long as they aren't yours. We'll check in later, Jane, just keep you guys safe."

Korsak hung up the phone and Jane hers onto the cushion beside her as she watched various emotions wash over Maura's face.

"Why did he do this?" Jane's voice held conviction. "Why involve his only daughter, who he claims to love, in this mess?"

"I don't think he knew he had a mess when he asked for my help."

"How fucking selfish of him, Maura!" Jane stood up and began to pace out of anger. "He needs help in his dying days? He walked out the damn door as far as we know using a fucking stick! He's not entitled to help if he can walk out the damn door!"

"Selfishness is that detestable vice which no one will forgive in others, and no one is without in himself." Maura let her head rest fully in her hands as she struggled to maintain her composure. "Henry Ward Beecher."

"He's a selfish bastard to blackmail his own daughter," Jane glared at Maura waiting for her reaction. "Jane Rizzoli."

"We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive." Maura lifted her head and blinked back her tears. "Lord Byron never rang more true to my own life than he does right now."

"Meaning?"

"Aren't we both being selfish?" Maura's voice raised an octave catching Jane by surprise. "I know my motive for helping him, or even finding him, has nothing to do with providing him comfort as he dies but everything to do with finding my birth mother."

"You think I'm being selfish trying to bring a known criminal to justice? No worries about his victims and bringing them some peace, it's always about me right?" Jane's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm saying I am being selfish, Jane, my motives aren't as pure as yours."

Maura rose and wiped her tears with a nearby napkin before turning to confront Jane.

"I helped him to learn about my mother." Maura's breath was coming in gasps as she fought for control of her emotions. "He'll die out there, Jane. When I first saw him, I would have given him weeks but now that he can get up and is experiencing that final burst of energy, it'll be a few days. In days I will lose my only chance at knowing my birth mother and the chance to feel like I _belong_ somewhere."

Jane approached Maura and placed her hands on Maura's trembling shoulders. Jane's eyes could no longer hide her emotions from her best friend; Maura mentally categorized Jane's emotions.

_Fear._

"We'll find him, Maura," Jane tried to offer a reassuring smile that fell dreadfully short.

_You don't believe that anymore than I do, Jane._

"And you're not the same person you were before. You belong with us; you're part of a bigger family than you would ever know."

_I want to belong with you, Jane, I feel safe._

"There's so much I'll never know." Maura couldn't contain her emotions any longer. Jane didn't just hear Maura's sob, she felt it resonate through her body as Maura leaned forward to embrace Jane.

"Maura…."

"Don't," Maura's voice was barely a whisper. She knew if Jane were to touch her, to take her fully into her embrace, Maura wouldn't let go.

_I want to be selfish; I want to revel in her touch even if my actions show I don't deserve it._

Maura backed up, putting some distance between her and Jane. The few feet seemed like a large chasm, but Maura knew she needed to gain control over her emotions. Knowing and then doing were proving difficult for the genius doctor.

"Maura?"

Maura was trembling; she knew there was nothing she could do to stop the emotions bubbling over. Her body was exhausted and that exhaustion was testing her resolve and her mental capacity. Maura didn't know how much longer her legs could hold her weight as the severity of the situation sunk in.

Maura looked at Jane and her breath was taken away, just as it was all of the countless times after she first realized that Jane was a fixture in her life that she could not replace, she could not lose, and she couldn't live without. Jane was beautiful; standing near Maura with an unreadable expression on her face.

_She probably thinks I'm losing it. I probably am._

Maura couldn't look away from Jane, could not have possibly torn her eyes away even if she had wanted to. And she did not want to, there was no question. She was afraid that if she looked away, even blinked, Jane would disappear and her life would go back to the shadow it once was.

"Jane…" Maura's voice trailed off as her tears were falling even harder now.

Jane watched as Maura's step faltered. Maura's hand reached out to steady herself, but nothing was close enough for her to touch other than Jane. Jane decided at the last moment to reach out, holding Maura steady until her footing was regained.

"You can't leave me," Maura's voice was barely a whisper and Jane fought to hear what she had said.

"What, Maura?"

"I can't lose you too." Maura's voice regained a little strength but she was not nearly the strong woman that Jane knew her to be.

Jane watched as Maura started to drop toward the ground. Jane placed her hands on Maura's waist but Maura didn't react. She appeared almost lifeless as her mind continued to process the dangerous situation she had gotten both her and Jane into. Jane fought for her to stand and ushered her to the couch, thankful when Maura sank into the cushions.

"I'm not going anywhere, Maura." Jane wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulder as Maura struggled to manage her breathing.

Jane watched as Maura turned her body toward Jane. Maura's eyes were glistening with tears, but for the first time since Jane had hung up the phone Maura seemed lucid. Maura was in complete control when her shaky hand met Jane's cheek. She knew exactly what she was doing when she used her thumb to brush Jane's cheek, intimately, more so than any other touch had been between them. Maura was in complete control of the situation when she tilted her head slowly, leaning forward into Jane's personal space. She felt all control slip away when she looked from Jane's pleading brown eyes, to her lips, and then closed her eyes and touched her gentle, soft mouth to Jane's to claim her kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Jane allowed her lips to finally make contact with Maura's and couldn't believe the effect it had on her body and mind. It was almost too overwhelming so Jane attempted to push all thoughts away and simply _feel_ the kiss.

_Don't think, Rizzoli, just act._

Maura's lips were as soft as Jane thought they would be. She had watched Maura countless numbers of times apply lipstick to her supple lips, jealous of the expensive lip gloss Maura insisted on buying. It wasn't the cost or brand that created the jealousy; Jane had never wanted to be an overrated, expensive lip gloss applicator until she met Maura.

_I'm touching her lips now, with mine. How could I have gone this long without this? _

Jane reached out and touched Maura's face as she deepened the kiss. Jane was vaguely aware that, despite the fact that Maura had initiated the kiss, she was allowing Jane to dominate it and direct it to fulfill her needs.

Maura felt her bottom lip being drawn into Jane's mouth; her teeth nipping at it as Maura failed to stifle the moan that escaped. Maura's tongue was begging to leave her mouth and enter Jane's, but Maura didn't want to force the kiss and overwhelm them both.

_I knew Jane would feel this way, her lips so gentle, and her face so soft against my palm._

Maura felt Jane's lips drag her tongue out of her mouth to suck it into her own.

_Thank you, Jane, thank god you read me so well._

Maura felt owned, she felt Jane's possessiveness of her as Jane sucked harder on her tongue. Jane worked Maura's tongue mercilessly with her lips and teeth while placing her hands on the back of Maura's head to pull her in closer. Maura's hair was so soft, draping over Jane's hands as they got lost in it.

The manner in which Jane was kissing Maura vibrated through Jane's body. Every movement she made with her own tongue and lips seemed to travel through her body settling uncomfortably between her legs. Jane was throbbing; she felt her wetness easily soaking her underwear and she became keenly aware that she needed to gain some control over the situation before she embarrassed herself.

"Please Jane…" Maura whispered as she took a much needed breath and then touched her lips once more to Jane's.

The sound of Maura's voice was enough to send Jane into overdrive. Her fingers curled around Maura's hair, holding it tight. Maura moaned into her mouth indicating to Jane she liked things to be slightly rough.

_File that for later, Rizzoli…wait, what am I thinking? There's going to be a later?_

The force of the kiss was intense for both Jane and Maura; they both knew instinctively that the kiss was about to end. Maura's lips held onto Jane's as long as possible, drinking up the last of the sensation of having finally felt Jane's lips upon her own.

Jane broke the contact and waited for Maura's eyes to open. When they finally did, she felt lost in them; the hazel color somehow seemed brighter and more enticing than it had ever been. Both women were breathing heavily, the effect of the kiss visible on both.

Jane's signs were classic. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes dilated, her skin flush as she scooted back toward the end of the couch, away from Maura, in silence.

_You can't hide your arousal from me, Jane._

Maura, on the other hand, remained rooted to the spot where she had first sat down, touching her lips with her shaking hand. She had no desire to hide her reaction; she wanted Jane to know the effect she had on her. Maura tried to focus on Jane, but the aching between her legs was making that an almost impossible task.

"Jane, I…"

_I can actually see the walls crashing around Jane. You've clearly overstepped, Maura._

"Well that's one way to stop your Google talk." Jane mustered a smile as she stood from the couch and traveled into the kitchen.

_Use humor to deflect real feelings, how often have I seen this tactic, Jane?_

"Jane, I…."

"No harm, no foul, Maura. I know it's upsetting and overwhelming to think of your chance at knowing your mother slipping away. That kind of fear makes people do crazy things."

"That's not it, I actually…"

"We just need to find him, and then we won't be so clearly out of our minds trapped here. Try to think of anything you can tell me, even if you don't think it's significant. The walking stick is a perfect example, if we can have more information like that we might be able to put things together and find him."

"Um…" Maura blinked several times to try to gain her composure. The switch in topics and Jane's walls erecting at rapid speed after their brief encounter made Maura's head spin.

_Is this how we're really going to deal with this, Jane? I didn't kiss you because we're trapped here and my chance at meeting my mother is drifting away. It's you, Jane, it always has been._

"I can't think," Maura admitted, her voice sounding foreign due to her arousal. "It's all a blur."

Jane allowed her head to drop as she leaned against the countertop in the kitchen. Her shoulders were slumped, her head hanging low, her posture indicated a unique combination of defeat and sadness.

"Jane, aren't we going to talk about this?"

"I have a case to solve, Maura." Jane didn't bother to look up at Maura but stared instead at her own foot gliding across the wood floor. "I'm not sure what you think there is to talk about. It's natural, being cooped up in this cabin and the mix of emotions you're feeling from all of this."

"Right," Maura tried to convince herself that Jane's rationalization was correct. "Although actually, it's argued by Cannon that the particular response you're referencing actually could halt or at least slow down a sexual response. Sexual functions are controlled by the parasympathetic nervous system and therefore are often suppressed during stress or fear. It appears the opposite is true for us."

"Sexual responses are actually _non-existent_ when Google talk is present." Jane was pleased with herself dodging the conversation with humor and stubbornness.

Jane scowled at her phone when it rang indicating an incoming call. She drew her eyes away from Maura, taking a deep breath before answering.

"Rizzoli," Jane cleared her throat trying to sound as normal as possible.

"We got another one," Frost said, stepping around the roped off body in the middle of the park.

"Who is it this time?"

"Korsak ran the prints taken by CSI before I called you. He has a rap sheet the size of Korsak's lunch bag!"

Jane smiled at Frost's joke about Korsak before settling back into the couch near the folders, getting ready to find the new victim's file.

"Gimmie a name, Frost."

"Brian O' Malley," Frost said looking at the driver's license in his gloved hand. The wallet was expensive, leather that had been broken into a comfortable crease.

"Brian O' Malley…" Jane's voice trailed off as she searched for his file in the large stack ahead of her. She opened the file and saw the various crimes that the young man had committed, no doubt for Doyle. Maura watched as Jane switched the phone to speaker and set it beside her to avoid a balancing act between her shoulder and ear. "Have you seen this guy, Maura?"

Maura looked closely and shook her head no, fixated on Jane's form in front of her. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden loss given the space both physically and seemingly emotionally between her and Jane.

"Boy, isn't our friend Mr. O' Malley one lucky son of a bitch," Jane mumbled going through his arrest record. "Petty theft that was dismissed, a drug charge that fell apart, and my personal favorite assault that the victim suddenly withdrew charges on. Paddy Doyle certainly has bailed him out on more than on occasion."

"The name Brian means high, noble, strong….not lucky," Maura tried to comfort herself in her own routine behavior. Spilling facts about random information somehow seemed to begin to calm her nerves.

"Well he's not those either," Jane shot back in frustration. "Why would Doyle keep him around though? He seems more trouble than he's worth."

"And if he hasn't been around Doyle, if he isn't one of the _chosen_, why knock him off? He's sort of sandwiched in the middle in the rank and file. He's hardly going to take the reigns," Frost offered.

"Maybe he's working for the suspect who killed off Doyle's top men and is after Maura?"

"So we're assuming his organization is split in half between those wanting new leadership and those remaining loyal to its dictator?" Frost asked.

"Assumptions are dangerous and not advised." Maura rubbed her hands over her arms to still the goose bumps that formed as her thoughts continued to swarm around the kiss with Jane.

"Well the first two we know were loyal." Jane's forehead scrunched up as she looked through the file in her hands. "I can only assume there are others lining up to be loyal to Doyle. Those are the assholes in the house with him. When you were there and found him missing, was anyone else there?"

"We wouldn't likely have gotten access if there was." Frost signaled Korsak to meet him back at the car while he wrapped up his conversation with Jane. "They had been stonewalling like crazy. But this time, the place was empty."

"So either they were out looking for him or out helping him."

"Korsak is makin' his way to the car; we'll call you when we get to Doyle's house."

Jane hung up the phone and continued to stare, in silence, at the file in front of her. She wasn't reading the words on the pages, but rather just staring as a means to distract herself from Maura and the tension that had built up in the room.

Jane exhaled a rather large breath she didn't realize she was holding when Maura chose to vacate the couch and move toward the kitchen. Maura busied herself boiling water to make tea, and Jane took the opportunity to watch her movements with great interest. She watched as Maura filled the kettle and lit the stove. She placed the kettle onto the flames and reached to the upper cabinet for the tea bags. Jane saw the small patch of skin near her waist become exposed as Maura reached high into the air. It looked like it was as soft as the skin on her face, the skin that Jane had caressed, her fingertips still tingling from the interaction.

_She kissed me….I kissed her back._

Jane cleared her throat as she focused on Maura's movements, desperate to avoid all conversation regarding the kiss until she had time to analyze what exactly had happened.

"Jane?" Maura's voice rang out, breaking the silence that had overwhelmed the mood of the room. She hadn't turned around, but her posture indicated she was uncomfortable with the situation at hand.

_I'm not ready to discuss this, Maura._

Maura turned around to catch Jane's eyes and held her gaze until she offered the most rehearsed smile she could muster. The smile, in Maura's eyes, was the equivalent of Jane's 'fake hug' that she had only witnessed once, when Theresa was on the receiving end.

"I'm making some tea, do you want some?"

Jane politely declined, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward of her pending headache.

"It might help with your headache," Maura offered as she clearly read Jane's physical signs.

_Stop reading my body language, Maura!_

"Rizzoli," Jane pounced on her ringing phone, thankful for the distraction from Maura.

"We're back at the house," Frost said carefully as he walked closer to Patrick Doyle's now occupied bed. "I've been asked to contact you. Our _friend_ Mr. Doyle would like a word…." Jane sat up straighter as she comprehended the words covered in Frost's own version of sarcasm.

"Detective Rizzoli," Patrick Doyle's voice was stronger than it had been in their previous conversation and Jane's gut instinct went into overdrive.

"Where were you?"

"It's very difficult being confined to this house." Patrick Doyle was being obtuse frustrating Jane even further. "I went for a walk."

"You went for a walk when someone so obviously wants you and those around you dead? Are you serious right now?"

"I'm confident that the danger has passed, Detective Rizzoli; I assume this news will make you happy? You can return to Boston with my daughter. I'd like to see her before it's too late."

"You think there's no danger?" Maura was shocked at the octave that Jane's voice reached. "From what I'm told another one of your employees will soon be making a trip to the morgue!"

"It is rather unfortunate," Patrick Doyle's voice remained even and calm, "accidents happen all the time though don't they?"

"Oh, we both know this was no accident."

"I doubt that you'll find anything to the contrary."

"If you're trying to tell me something," Jane growled through her clenched teeth, "then do it straight up with no games, Doyle. Are you trying to tell me that you killed him because he was your leak?"

"Your theory," Doyle responded quickly.

"Damn right it's my theory, considering you did everything you could to mislead us and have us focus a lot of wasted time on Irish crime families when it was your organization we should have been looking at!"

Doyle was impressed with how quickly Jane had put things together. He hadn't shared that with her, he simply used the correct phrases and tenses in a conversation with her. She was so obviously tuned in to detail; it pleased him to know that he had made the right decision to call her to protect Maura.

"I wouldn't dare to offer you any of my _theories_ when you're leading the investigation. I'd like to talk to my daughter please, in person, before it's too late."

"I'm not bringing her back until I know there isn't a threat to her life, Doyle."

"How can I assure you that she is safe to return home?"

"You can stop with all this bullshit and tell me straight up if the dead guy found this morning is the same guy that killed Michael and Sean."

"I want to talk to my daughter," Doyle's voice had now changed; it was weaker, pleading to Jane for his last chance at redemption.

"I can't bring her back without knowing she'll be safe."

"Isn't it up to her, Detective?" Doyle was challenging her in such an obvious way Jane wanted to scream. "I know I don't have a lot of time and despite the fact that I don't deserve to see her one last time and try to make amends, she hasn't done anything wrong. I give you my word that she's safe to come back; I wouldn't risk my only daughter. You may not understand it, she likely doesn't understand it, but I do love her more than I can ever express."

"We'll be in touch," Jane said closing the phone tightly in her hand. She waited for a brief moment and then looked at Maura.

She had finished making her tea and, despite Jane's protest, she had made her a cup as well. She was leaning back on the counter, sipping her tea, trying to gain her composure before speaking.

"Doyle said it's safe to go back to Boston."

"I'm gathering from your side of the conversation that the victim Frost found earlier was the leak?"

"He didn't say." Jane rubbed the back of her neck feeling the stress building up in that location. "Doyle won't say because he doesn't want to incriminate himself in murder."

"But you don't think it's safe?"

"I don't know…." Jane's head fell forward and her posture sagged in defeat.

"What does your gut tell you?"

"When did you suddenly stop relying on science and put faith in my intestines?"

"When they've always proved right." Maura placed her mug on the counter near her crossed her ankles in front of her. "I don't trust other peoples' intestines, but I trust yours."

"What if I'm wrong?"

Maura smiled sadly at Jane when she saw fear reflected in her expressive brown eyes. Maura could see Jane's fear so clearly ruling her emotions.

"If I take you back there and it isn't safe, I couldn't live with myself if something happened."

"You'll stay with me," Maura simply said as if Jane's fears were completely irrational without actually dismissing them. "He'll die in a matter of days, Jane, if he's already experiencing the surge of energy that comes in near the end."

"I need to know for sure…."

"And I need to know my birth mother," Maura reasoned cautiously. "Please, Jane, I know I'll be safe with you."

Jane ran her fingers through her unruly hair before grabbing a fist full of it and growling through her clenched teeth. Maura knew this was the physical display of Jane's emotions warring with one another; she smiled at being able to read Jane so well despite her own social ineptness.

"Please tell me I won't regret this…." Jane's question was rhetorical, but didn't matter anyway headed toward the bedroom to begin packing their bags for the return to Boston.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: So, I am likely to get beaten over a few things to come, but please just remember that I am indeed a Rizzles diehard fan and will eventually 'get there' in their relationship. I just can't write something that happens instantly because I don't think that these characters would just throw themselves at one another, otherwise Monday nights would be so much fun for us! There is a point to this, there is a case to solve, and there is a lot of work that needs to be done. So, chapters will start coming that delve further into their relationship. Please note that as we move forward, the rating will be moved M starting with this chapter….things are really going to get moving so hang on…..

Chapter 15

_Maura opened the door to her house when she heard the faint knock the second time. She had to actually strain to hear it, not certain if it someone had announced their presence or not. As she opened the door, she smiled at Jane who was standing on the porch, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously. Maura greeted her with a smile, but was surprised when Jane stopped bouncing and marched forward. _

"_Jane, what are you doing here?" Maura bit her bottom lip in anticipation seeing a hungry look reflected in Jane's expressive eyes. The feel of Jane's hands strongly wrapping around her shoulders and pushing her inside made her gasp._

"_What I should have done a long time ago." Jane's voice was gravelly, more so than usual, and Maura recognized her arousal instantly. _

_Jane pushed Maura back into the wall and used her foot to quickly close the door behind them. Despite always being the picture perfect example of etiquette, Maura currently couldn't care less that the door slammed shut. She was focused on the woman before her, the woman that defied all of Maura's habits and quirks. Jane was the woman that forced Maura to be more social, to be more open, to fit in regardless of the size of the crowd. She was the woman that Maura longed for, that Maura made flimsy excuses to be near, and the woman who lit her on fire. Maura hadn't had many friends, none that she would classify as a best friend until Jane. She was certain that most women didn't lust after their best friend, desire to kiss their best friend, and, more often than not lately, fantasize about their best friend while masturbating in an attempt to relieve her frustration. But Jane, her best friend, now stood before her clearly becoming unraveled as she leaned forward toward Maura. Jane's face was close to her own; close enough that she could feel Jane's breath on her own lips as Jane exhaled, working to control her emotions. _

_Jane tilted her head and Maura followed suit, watching as Jane's eyes diverted between Maura's eyes and her lips. It was a classic sign that a kiss was about to happen, and Maura knew Jane's kisses were like no other. Her body hummed in anticipation. Jane allowed their lips to touch, moaning to signal her approval. Their tongues began to collide, both wanting to control the kiss. _

_She pulled Maura off the wall and wrapped her arms around her, her hands seemed to be everywhere. They were in Maura's hair holding her still so she could deepen the kiss; they were running down Maura's back desperate to gain access to Maura's skin. Her hands wandered to Maura's ass and Maura gasped when she felt Jane's palms land there and push her forward to initiate deeper contact between their lower bodies. Thighs touching thighs, hips pressed against one another's as the kiss continued. Jane's feet carelessly stepped on Maura's as she positioned herself better to grind against the doctor. _

_Jane walked them backward toward the couch, never allowing their lips to part more than a split second. She relished the feeling of Maura's tongue in her mouth, Maura's hands on her shoulders or buried in her unruly curly hair. _

"_Jane," Maura gasped when her legs hit the back of the couch and she had no choice but to break the kiss and sit. _

"_No more talking," Jane said in a voice that instantly made Maura drip with arousal. _

_Maura allowed Jane to hover over her. If she had to describe Jane in that moment, she would have likened her to a lustrous panther stalking its prey. Maura rose up and met Jane's swollen lips with her own, moaning as she initiated the kiss once more. Maura knew, she inherently knew, that kissing Jane would never get old or become routine. Her lips were so soft, her body the perfect specimen despite Jane's aversion to exercise. Maura couldn't ignore her need any longer, she ran her hands down from Jane's shoulders, meeting at Jane's collarbone, and then separating once more to palm Jane's breasts impatiently._

"_God I love your body," Maura whispered before Jane's lips crashed down on her own once more._

_While continuing to kiss, Jane used one hand to push against Maura's shoulder to force her to lie on her back on the couch. Maura's legs instinctively opened, making room for Jane's body to position between them. Jane grabbed Maura's hands, pinning first her right then her left down to the couch. Maura had no option left but to raise her head and hips to not lose the contact she had with Jane. She felt like she was going to fall apart when she felt Jane position her legs so that Maura's thigh was between them, leaving one foot on the floor and one draped over the arm of the couch. This position forced their lower bodies to press against each other, the weight of Jane on Maura feeling so right._

_Jane let Maura's right hand go, which instantly ran down the length of Jane's back to cup her ass and push her more firmly against Maura's thigh. As the kiss continued, she let the other hand go for Maura to explore her body completely._

_Jane moved her hips to a rhythm that would likely take her to an orgasm and caused Maura to grope for any real-estate on Jane's body she could find. She was surprised when Jane sat up quickly breaking their kiss and allowing Maura to gasp for air. The moment, however, was short-lived when Jane reached for the bottom of Maura's tank top and pushed it up. Maura watched as Jane's eyes darkened, her breathing quickened, and her head dipped down to be eyelevel with Maura's chest. _

_Jane pushed Maura's bra up, her need overpowering any other desire, even the one to take things slow and relish in the moment. When the cool air hit Maura's bare breasts, she moaned as her nipples hardened even further. She was quickly approaching that fine line between pleasure and pain._

"_How do you do this to me?" Maura asked, not shocked that Jane's answer was demonstrative and not vocal. Jane always was a doer not a talker._

_Jane's lips wrapped around Maura's nipple and pulled it into her mouth. She sucked for a few moments, and then when Maura twisted Jane's hair in her hands and arched her back Jane smiled and raked her teeth over Maura's nipple. The sensation was overwhelming; Maura arched her entire body into Jane's and gasped when the energy from Jane's teeth seemed to correlate to the throbbing between her legs. _

_Maura's breath came in gasps, sprinkled with moans and heavy panting, as Jane worked her nipple as a means of foreplay. _

"_Jane!"_

"Maura." Jane placed her hand on Maura's leg, shaking her to awaken her from her dream. They had left the cabin several hours ago and the sun was starting to set as they journeyed toward South Boston. "You were dreaming."

"I'm sorry, I drifted off. I must be more tired than I thought."

"Are you ok?" Jane glanced back toward the road and then once again back at Maura. "You were mumbling in your sleep."

Maura placed her hand on her chest to feel her heart racing underneath. If Jane had noticed her blushing, she hadn't mentioned it and for that Maura was eternally grateful.

"It was just a dream." Maura opened her mouth to reassure Jane that she was indeed fine and that her dream was inconsequential. When Maura opened her mouth, no words came out; she knew the dream represented more than that, it wasn't insignificant to her.

_Damn my inability to lie._

"I'm fine, thank you."

Maura watched as the scenery flew by them, Jane's speed was reaching an alarming rate. She settled back into her seat and stared at Jane's face until Jane dared to look at her.

"Are we trying to prove that virtual photons can actually travel faster than light?"

"What?" Jane's face took on a rather odd expression of annoyance and confusion. "Care to explain that in plain English, Dr. Isles."

"Photons, they neither have mass nor electronic charge but possess energy and momentum nonetheless…."

"Forget I asked," Jane interrupted with a smile as she focused on the road. Despite herself, Maura smiled as well settling into what could have been an uncomfortable silence but now seemed to fit them both well. "I can only assume you're referencing my speed and I'm just trying to get us there before…"

"Before my father dies?" Maura didn't want the words to just hang in the air with Jane unable to voice what they both knew was imminent.

"I actually don't know anymore," Jane said as she signaled to surrounding drivers that she was changing lanes. "I don't understand how a dying man can leave his house with nothing more than a cane and then end up killing someone."

"Do you think he killed him or simply ordered someone else to do it?"

"We likely will never find out," Jane said merging back into her original lane. "I just don't buy it, Maura."

"Buy what?"

"That he's even sick." Jane dared to voice what her fear had been since she was contacted by Patrick Doyle. "I think this is all some elaborate scheme to pull you in, Maura. Into a world that obviously has a lot of danger associated with it."

"Do you trust me?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because I can assure you," Maura stared at Jane regardless of the fact that she was watching the road before them, "Patrick Doyle is dying. There is no medical explanation for why the body and mind rally near the end of life, but it's well documented and published. You'd be surprised at the amount of research that has gone into those last few days when a patient gets a burst of energy, a cessation to the constant pain; many people have tried to explain it as a religious or spiritual event. I suppose, to some, it gives a living example of the faith that religion begs for."

"How long?"

"How long does it last?" Maura shrugged her shoulders and she focused out the window once more. "Hours, days, I don't know of any documented case that has been for a period longer than a few days."

"So we could get back there and he could last for only a few more days?"

"It's my opinion," Maura said quietly and cautiously, "that Patrick Doyle has a matter of days left at most, yes."

Maura took a deep breath and then turned to face Jane once more.

"I'm irrationally afraid." Maura caught Jane's full attention.

A flustered Detective Rizzoli finally remembered to watch the road and quickly turned back to focus her efforts on keeping them safe. She pondered Maura's statement waiting for her to elaborate but, when she didn't, Jane decided to press for the source of Maura's fear.

"Why are you afraid?"

"I know it seems silly," Maura began, "to be afraid of things other than someone trying to kill me. But that is actually the furthest thing from my mind. Perhaps it's because we were so withdrawn from it all in the cabin or it happened so suddenly…."

"Maura, what is it?"

"I don't think it's just one thing, Jane. I'm afraid of not getting the information on my mother or if I do get it, of having built up this woman into such a fantasy that she could never live up to the high expectations I have for her. Can one person make up for all the love that I never felt as a child? I've built her up in my mind that she can wipe all of that away. I don't think it's fair to place that expectation on her when I don't even know if she'll want a relationship with me." Maura took a deep breath and then mentally quieted her objection to the next sentence knowing she wanted to be honest with Jane. "I'm afraid that we'll never talk about the kiss…."

"That shouldn't even make the list," Jane said calmly, now actively avoiding eye contact with Maura. "It's not something that should even be on your mind. It's because of those other fears that it happened in the first place."

Maura closed her eyes willing her facial expression to remain neutral, but Jane was mistaken and if nothing else, Maura wanted complete honesty between them.

"You were so angry with me when you found out I had kept Doyle from you, so I don't want there to be any misconceptions between us, Jane. I don't want to ever feel the way I did when you were angry with me."

_Can't this car go any faster so this conversation can end? I am not ready to discuss this, some facial coding recognition expert she is. Can't she see that?_

"I know you'd rather have the car floor open up and you fall out onto the freeway rather than have this conversation…"

"I never said that, Maura."

"It's written all over your face." Maura smiled softly when Jane's eyes met her own.

_Damn facial recognition coding expert! Be careful what you wish for, Rizzoli._

"I didn't kiss you because of all those things, I kissed you _despite _them. We've danced around that kiss long enough."

"So the sleepover _was_ your way of telling me you were attracted to me?" Jane couldn't help the humor or the smile that came over her face causing Maura to roll her eyes in Rizzoli fashion.

"Use humor to hide your feelings, Jane, I'm used to it by now."

"Well we can't all be blunt as a stone either, Maura, there has to be a happy medium between us right?"

"Can't we discuss this like civilized adults?"

"Can't we avoid it like all the adults I know do when they aren't ready to talk about it?" Jane shot back.

"We're almost there anyway." Maura began to recognize the scenery around her. She had made the trip enough times to recognize the landmarks that decorated South Boston.

Jane cursed the silence that enveloped them, but then thanked her lucky stars that Maura had stopped talking.

_How can she make me completely crazy like this; I want the polar opposites?_

Jane took a deep breath as she parked her car behind Korsak's old beater and shut the car off. She reached over and grasped Maura's hand. It was time she lived up to her end of the bargain; Maura was right, hardly anyone else would take her abuse and certainly not anyone Maura's caliber.

"Whatever happens, I'll be here for you, Maura." Jane offered her sincerest smile after squeezing Maura's hand in reassurance. "Let's go talk to your sperm donor."

Jane exited the car and waited as Maura steadied her breath and then got out of the vehicle and walked toward the front door. She didn't bother to knock; she knew that Patrick Doyle was expecting her and the formality wasn't something she wanted to waste on this visit. She wanted answers, and she straightened her posture before entering the makeshift bedroom where Patrick Doyle was spending his last days.

She shot a look of disbelief and concern at Korsak and Frost before focusing her attention on Patrick Doyle. He was sweating, his breathing was labored, and she rushed to his side grabbing his wrist and focusing on her watch to take his pulse.

"How long has he been like this?"

"About an hour, Doc," Frost said softly. "He's been in and out of it since then."

Maura frowned as she mentally calculated Patrick Doyle's pulse; his breathing was heavy and she blinked back tears as her eyes met Jane's from across the room.

"Maura?"

"He's dying." Maura looked down as Patrick Doyle began to awaken. He offered a small smile to his daughter, not bothering to wipe away any of the tears that began to fall from his eyes.

"You made it," Patrick Doyle's voice was hoarse from coughing.

"I'm here." Maura sat on the edge of his bed, but dared not to touch her father. It was the closest thing that she could bring herself to in terms of intimacy with him. She waited with baited breath to hear him speak.

"I promised you I'd tell you about your mother. I'll tell you everything I know, Maura, including that she loved you very much and never forgave me for who I am. It's why we were forced to give you up."

Korsak, Frost, and Jane suddenly felt extremely intrusive when the discussion of Maura's life began to unfold. Korsak signaled toward the hallway leading to the kitchen as he straightened his tie and stepped toward the doorway.

"I'm just…I'm gonna…right." Korsak was relieved that Maura seemed to not notice his lack of excuse for making an exit. Frost offered nothing in the way of an attempt to excuse himself, he simply walked past Jane to follow Korsak to the kitchen. Jane turned to follow when Maura's voice surprised her.

"Stay, Jane, please." Maura's gaze never faltered as she stared at Patrick Doyle. Jane silently accepted as she stood far enough away from the bed to not intrude but dutifully behind Maura to show her support. "Who is my mother?"

"Her name is Kathleen Brady," Patrick Doyle gasped. "I met her just after I was kicked out of grammar school."

"Kathleen derived from St. Catherine who arrived in Ireland with Christianity. It became popular after Yeats chose it for the heroine of his 1899 play "The Countess Cathleen." Maura turned toward Jane as if she were filling her in on a deep, family secret. "Although we Americanized it to spell it with a 'K' it was originally spelled with a 'C'. How fitting that the play was based on the Irish folktale."

"I wouldn't know." Patrick Doyle offered a shy smile as he reached for Maura's hand. Jane watched in amazement as Maura neither accepted nor rejected his hand; she simply let it lay on top of hers without moving. The tension in the room was thick; Jane had never been privy to the last moments of someone dying. She was always the person who arrived after to solve the mystery. It was obvious to her that Maura knew he was dying, he knew he was dying, and the fact that she knew all of this was making her rather uncomfortable.

"It is about a time of famine where the Devil offers food to the starving poor in exchange for their souls, but Cathleen convinces Satan to take her soul instead. When she dies and the Devil comes to collect her soul, God intervenes and carries her to heaven saying that such a sacrificial act cannot justly lead to evil consequences."

"Sounds just like her," Patrick chuckled as he squeezed Maura's hand tight. "I'm sure you're making the analogy that I'm the Devil in that story. That she gave me the greatest thing she could, a daughter rather than her soul, but we couldn't keep you despite the love we felt for you. I wanted you safe, happy, above the kind of life I could offer to you both."

"Where is she?"

"I don't have a clue." Patrick Doyle waited for emotions to cross over Maura's face. Much to his surprise, she remained stoic and simply nodded. "I didn't mislead you,  
>Maura, I can tell you what I know which is what I promised."<p>

Maura didn't flinch when Jane placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She somehow felt guilty for knowing this would be how it ended; Maura might have a name, but she was no closer to finding the woman than she was before she had a name.

"It stops here though." Patrick coughed again and then his eyes gazed upon Jane to address her. "When I left grammar school, I got involved with the Charleston group because I had no place to go. My parents kicked me out since I wasn't going to school, back then if you were on the streets and not protected you'd be in the crossfire between my clan and the Winter Hill Gang."

"I'm not impressed with either," Jane said after she cleared her throat.

"I was never impressed either, just desperate to survive," Doyle countered. "I was around long enough that as folks starting getting knocked off or too old to care, power starting getting handed down. One generation after another, Detective Rizzoli, you accepted it and considered it an honor or you were killed."

Jane was unmoved by the confession; nothing he said now would take away the fact that she had no chance to bring him to justice.

"I'm not handing down my power." Doyle smiled smugly at the arching eyebrow Jane shot him in surprise. "I have enough information collected to give the police control of the dock operation. I don't want someone to have to sacrifice like I did…" Doyle reached up and touched Maura's cheek. "I don't want someone to have to give up love in any form to take this burden on, to feel pushed into it like their life literally depended on it."

"So you're letting it all go and we're supposed to believe that your crew isn't going to just pick it back up?"

"The people that stayed with me did so because we're family," Doyle said sternly. "Michael stayed with me because he was like a son to me; I picked him up off the streets and gave him a home, some food, basic necessities, Detective."

"That's why there were always so few people around you," Maura said softly as her mind worked in overdrive to connect the dots.

"Because very few people loved me, Maura," Doyle's voice was laced with sadness. "In the house are some files, you'll find them, Detective Rizzoli, to be an easy read. It won't bring people back, but I never killed anyone that didn't deserve it, I didn't kill innocent women and children either!"

Patrick Doyle began to shake but continued to talk, desperate to get all the information he could to Maura before he died. He smiled as a single tear fell from Maura's eyes wetting his palm.

"You are so much like her." Patrick Doyle was struggling to not mistake Maura for her mother Kathleen in his weakened state. He looked at Maura and easily remembered what Kathleen looked like, they were mirror images of one another. "For as bright as you are, she is as creative. She used to paint, sculpt; she used to get lost in her work for hours to escape the pain I caused her. The pain from having to give you up, but also of loving me."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know," Patrick Doyle answered quickly and honestly. "When we gave you up, she hated me, Maura. It's something she likely never forgave me for. I never actually forgave myself either. She left me, left town, went likely as far away from me as she possibly could."

"You told me she was well taken care of," Maura's voice quivered as she spoke betraying her to show her feelings.

"I put money into an account, the same one for years. I put the money in, she took it out, never too much and never in a pattern. I've lost her, Maura, but you can find her, give yourself a chance to know a remarkable woman."

Patrick Doyle began to breathe heavily, the weight in his chest felt constricting and his pain began to grow. Maura could tell he was in pain; she instantly got up and moved past Jane to the pile of medical supplies that she had asked for. She removed a vile of morphine and began to prepare to dispense it to alleviate some of his pain. Jane stood by the bed, nervously looking between Maura and Patrick Doyle as his breathing began to slow. Maura looked up, staring at Doyle than looking at Jane. There was a sense of calmness, a silent look shared between Maura and Jane before Maura realized that she could no longer hear Patrick Doyle's labored breath.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Maura sighed as she balanced her chin in the palm of her hand, allowing her elbow propped against her desk to support the weight of it. Despite the fact that Homicide had been slow, painfully slow, for the past few weeks she felt overwhelmed with work. When Patrick Doyle died, it created a chain of events that Maura could have never fathomed would have her sitting in the morgue at night more frustrated than she had ever been throughout her life. The puzzle before her wasn't a body on her table; the puzzle wasn't unraveling someone else's life so that Jane could bring justice to the victim and their family. This was her puzzle, it was Maura's life and she simply couldn't unravel it to find her own story.

Maura had been avoiding all mainstream television since the biggest story being reported on was that the infamous crime boss Paddy Doyle had passed away. The speculation regarding his business dealings was at an all-time high and unless it was confirmed by Jane as accurate Maura didn't want to entertain the negativity. The various anonymous sources being interviewed turned Maura's stomach, knowing that a large percentage of their testament was incorrect. Maura had exhausted every documentary she owned, and had read the stack of books that she had purchased to but never seemed to have time to read.

The second event that happened to alter her life came in the form of Doyle's confession. He had given Jane, out of some demented respect he had gained for her, enough ammunition to take back the docks and eliminate the further existence of any holdouts from his organization. This meant that Jane's time was scarce; their usual pattern of random dinners throughout the week and at least one weekend 'date' night had been skipped over the past few weeks. She saw Jane at work and twice this week alone Maura had left late and returned early to headquarters to see Jane wearing the same clothes. Jane had explained that they were working against the clock; that if Boston PD didn't act quickly the docks would go to some other crime family who would elude them as Doyle had for years. Cavanaugh had asked very few questions regarding their sources of information, the thought of the docks finally being clean had him salivating at the mouth and giving Jane, Frost, and Korsak an abundance of support. All of this added up to less time with Jane, and Maura trying to adjust to the fact that she had become accustomed to and needed her time with Jane. She marveled last night as she lay awake in bed unable to sleep how she had evolved from a socially awkward person who tended to avoid the living to dependant on someone so her complete opposite in such a short time.

The third event, more personal than the first two, was the knowledge of her mother's name. While Jane had used this uncharacteristically slow time in Homicide to work through Doyle's evidence, Maura used the time to search for her mother. She quickly came to the realization that what she flippantly referred to as Jane's 'gumshoe talent' wasn't as easy as Jane made it seem. Maura was on a personal journey though and police resources couldn't be used for personal gain, so she was left with laymen's resources like Google and other Internet resources to find her mother. Her original search began weeks ago, when she quickly discovered that there were literally thousands of women with the name Kathleen Brady. Despite narrowing her search to women near Patrick Doyle's age and geographical locations near and including Massachusetts she was having no luck. She had gone through hundreds of social networking pages, address search sites and, when available, pictures of the women desperate to see some sort of resemblance to her given Doyle's admission that she looked like her mother.

Maura could concede that her days were frustrating with all that was swirling around in her life and the search for her mother, but it was the nights that were the worst. When she dared to reflect on her life, it was at night and the silence enveloping her drove her to the brink of insanity. When she attempted to sleep, her nights were filled with dreams of Jane that would wake her and she would often realize the state of arousal she was in. It wasn't just remembering their kiss, although it had started out that way. The dreams quickly evolved into Jane touching her, teasing her with her fingers and tongue, and Maura begging for her release. They were becoming stronger, moving from once or twice a week to nightly and it had Maura rather on edge.

Maura leaned back, closing her eyes as she let her head fall backward to stretch her neck. She was tired of looking at the computer; she was tired of searching for answers both online and internally.

_How can Jane just go on pretending that it didn't happen?_

"Your preferred shoe out of stock again?" Maura looked up to see Jane holding two cups of coffee sporting her usual sexy smile. "I saw your car was still in the parking lot, figured you could use a cup despite the fact that Stanley made it and not Ma."

_She's not even aware of how alluring she truly is._

"You're taking an awfully big risk, Detective." Maura smiled back at Jane, extending her hand toward her couch to encourage Jane to sit. She instantly stood and walked the length of her office to sit next to Jane thankful for the respite from her research. "Stanley isn't your biggest fan, perhaps I should give everyone something to do and have the crime lab run tests on it before we consume it."

"How can we be so slow and yet so busy?"

"Because neither of us are working on Homicide related activities." Maura sipped her coffee carefully, not certain of how it would actually taste. When she was certain it was passable she took a bigger swallow of the coffee and smiled at Jane. It wasn't until Jane finally titled her cup toward her lips that she let out a laugh. "Were you waiting to see if I would be poisoned before you took a sip of your own?"

"Survival of the fittest, Maura." Jane laughed when Maura playfully swatted at her arm. "What, if not shoes, are you working on dare I ask?"

"Kathleen Brady and I now have a new found respect for your gumshoe technique."

Jane couldn't hold back her laughter as she stared into Maura's hazel eyes. She then took stock in her friend. Maura's hair was casually swept up off her shoulders and neck. Her legs were crossed and one of her designer heels was precariously balanced on her toe as she swung her foot slowly. This was a nervous habit that Jane had come to recognize having first witnessed the behavior coupled with twisting her ring. Her dress, although impeccable in taste and flattering to her figure, had some wrinkles in it and that's when Jane fully understood there was more to the story than her mother.

"Your mother has you this rattled? You have wrinkles in your dress, Maura, that's just simply unheard of." Jane ensured she remained smiling as Maura quickly whipped her head in Jane's direction with a scowl. When she noticed Jane's dimples accenting her pure smile, she laughed despite herself.

"It's all just a lot to take in right now, Jane, spending all this time researching hundreds of women who could potentially be my mother is exhausting."

"I'm sorry I haven't been much help." Jane sipped her coffee while contemplating her next statement. "Maybe I should have focused some of my time to help you with what you're working on instead of pouring through file after file upstairs."

"Please," Maura paused, waving her hand in the air to dismiss Jane's silly notion, "I certainly understand and support the need to bring some peace to Patrick Doyle's victims and eliminate the corruption at the docks. Finding my mother is my plight; it just is different when the puzzle is your life and not someone who is lying on the autopsy table."

"But I'm here now," Jane looked at her watch and sighed, "For at least another ten minutes if you want to bounce something off of me."

"I'm not sure you want what you _can_ help me with to be 'bounced off of you' as you say."

Maura knew Jane well enough to know she wouldn't want to approach the conversation of them kissing. Jane spent years sweeping her feelings under the proverbial rug and not dealing with them head-on, while Maura was overly blunt and had very few boundaries and outwardly expressed her feelings. Their stark contrast balanced them well; Jane had opened up a great deal more to Maura over the last several years and Maura had learned to delicately approach Jane with discussions revolving around feelings. She would need a subtle tactic for this discussion; one that involved a balance between playfulness and challenging. Jane often used humor to express her feelings and would never back down from anything that someone thought she couldn't do.

"You can help me with something other than my mother." Maura focused her eyes on her finger as she ran it over the rim of the cup she held in her hand. "But I'm not sure you're up for the challenge."

"I'm sorry?" Jane's eyebrow rose, as did the octave of her voice and Maura found comfort in the predictability of it all.

"It has to do with feelings, Jane," Maura smiled. "I'm not sure that's always your strong suit."

"It can be my strong suit as long as it doesn't involve _my_ feelings." Jane smiled when Maura chuckled despite herself. "I also don't like you crying, just for the record. I'm sure I can handle what you want to throw at me as long as your eyes are dry and you don't ask me to lay down on this couch and tell you about my family."

"So as long as I keep the conversation regulated to only my feelings we're ok to have it?"

Jane looked at her suspiciously then cautiously nodded her head. Her posture became stiff as if she were preparing herself for the pending conversation, especially since Maura had confirmed that feelings would be discussed.

"It's not going away, Jane," Maura said softly as her eyes fixated on her desk on the other side of the room.

"What's not going away?"

"The time at the cabin…"

Jane let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She looked up at the ceiling knowing that Maura wasn't talking about the simple few days they had spent there, she was talking specifically about the kiss they had shared. The very same kiss that haunted Jane's dreams at night; the very same kiss that caused her to bury herself in work in a unsuccessful attempt to forget it had happened, despite the fact that if she were honest with herself she didn't want to forget that kiss.

_You walked right into this one, Rizzoli, don't be an asshole._

"I didn't know you'd find the scenery so fascinating…" Jane offered a weak smile realizing that Maura wasn't going to allow her to minimize the conversation using her misplaced humor. "Maura, I just don't know that I'm prepared to talk about this."

"What do you have to prepare for, Jane? You can't simply sit here and tell me how you feel about what happened?"

"I would if I understood my feelings."

"Do you think that I totally understand my feelings?" Maura asked. "I can assure you that I don't and yet I'm willing to talk about it to clear the air between us."

"You have a bigger brain than I do; it lets you process things quicker."

Maura's mouth gaped open until Jane smiled, a genuine olive branch to show Maura that Jane simply couldn't process her feelings without relying on her instinct to hide behind her humor.

"And you are by far more socially adept than I am unless we're talking high society, Jane. My rather large brain, as you put it, has nothing to do with whether or not I can process my emotions any faster than you do. I just can't spend another night without understanding what that kiss meant between us."

Jane's phone vibrated breaking the moment between them. Jane offered an apologetic look to Maura, her eyes pleading for understanding, when she reached for the phone.

"Yeah, Frost." Jane's gaze remained on Maura who slipped her shoe fully on her foot and padded across the room to sit behind her desk. Jane assumed it was Maura's way of pouting; she was angry that their conversation was interrupted. Jane, on the other hand, relished in the fact that Frost needed her upstairs to look at a file which provided an excellent excuse to postpone the conversation.

Jane closed her phone and slipped it back into the case fixed onto her belt. She leaned forward and called out for Maura, waiting until Maura's eyes met her own.

"They need me upstairs, but you're right, Maura. I'm an asshole who makes jokes, albeit good ones, to avoid any emotional outpouring of my feelings. Old habits die hard, but I'll try to be better."

Maura nodded reluctantly knowing the conversation wasn't going to happen once again.

"Can you please give me some time to process this?" Jane asked sincerely. "If I promise that we'll talk about it when all this shit clears and we have some time to really talk about it rather than stealing ten minutes together?"

"I'm surprised, Jane, I would have thought you wanted to limit the conversation." Maura now was hiding behind a certain level of sarcasm and humor as she smiled to reveal her dimples.

"Normally, yes!" Jane rose to her feet and laughed. "But we both know that this isn't going to fall into the normal category and you deserve more than ten minutes no matter what the outcome is."

Jane raised her hand to offer a hesitant wave as she exited the office and quickly stepped into the elevator. She pushed the up button once, bouncing on the balls of her feet praying that the elevator would arrive to assist in her getaway plan. She waited just a moment, and then hit the button again, waiting an additional ten seconds before doing it again.

_What does it take to get the elevator here!_

Jane was never so thankful when she heard the familiar bell of the elevator and the doors opened. She quickly stepped inside, pushing her desired floor repeatedly as the doors closed. She closed her eyes, leaned her head against the elevator, and let out a deep breath, thankful that she had escaped without having to divulge her feelings.

_How on earth do you tell your best friend that you're now having sexual dreams about her? Jesus, Rizzoli, you are a head case._

Frost greeted Jane when the doors opened and led her to the interrogation room where they had laid out some of the more interesting files Doyle had left for her. She sat down and grabbed the piece of paper that Korsak was holding out for her and began to glance at the words on the page.

"What is this?"

"He knew Howie Winter, Jane, and kept records on all the dealings he had with him."

"He's in prison, Korsak," Jane said, placing the paper down on the table.

"He was, until he got out in 2006. He went in for dealing cocaine and from what little Doyle told me the most recent events tied back to drugs. If we can trace shipments back to Winter, we've got him for the rest of his life, Jane."

"Wasn't there another file in here with Winter in it?" Jane leaned over and began to rifle through a box, removing various files and throwing them on the floor near the box. As she got closer to the end of the stack, she noticed a picture lying on the bottom of the box. She picked it up, sat up straight, and studied it in her hand.

"What is it, Jane?"

"What is this picture?" Jane looked at Frost as she looked over her shoulder at the photograph in her hand.

"I've never seen it before, but it's a painting of some sort."

_You are so much like her…..for as bright as you are she is as creative. She used to paint, sculpt; she used to get lost in her work for hours to escape the pain I caused her._

Jane blinked as Doyle's voice echoed in her ears. There would be no reason to keep a random photo of a painting; this meant something to Doyle as did each and every piece of paper that he had hand selected to give to Jane in the hopes of redemption in Maura's eyes.

"I need to take care of something, guys." Jane grabbed her jacket and tucked the picture into the inside of the coat to protect it. "Follow up on Winter and see if we can get a few others scumbags to fall since Doyle's out of the picture."


	17. Chapter 17

Jane entered the private parking lot for the Museum of Fine Arts and cringed at the crowd that was anxiously approaching the entrance to the facility. Despite her urge to park her unmarked cruiser in a close, reserved parking spot, she opted to play by the rules and headed to the back of the lot. She parked her car and then looked up, dreading having to fight the crowd to gain entrance into the museum.

As she neared the building, she heard the security team instruct patrons to file into a single line to ensure quick, safe access to the private exhibit. The crowd barely listened; Jane watched as a few people tried to accomplish the task of putting the crowd into a single line and decided to push her way to the front. Jane weaved in and out of people. They were all dressed to the nines but freezing as the temperature had significantly dropped when the sun set.

When Jane approached the front of the line, there was a young man standing there alone with a clipboard. Jane smiled; she knew what purpose he served. If you weren't on 'the list' you weren't going to get into the exhibit. It was another one of the cultural nuances that she hated when rubbing elbows with the people that Maura would consider peers. Jane instantly reached for her badge, remembering the effectiveness it had when it gained her and Maura access to Constance Isles' hanging bottle chandelier show.

"Hey, you just can't walk in here!"

"I believe I can." Jane flashed her badge without a trace of a smile on her face. The young man with the clipboard cleared his throat before admitting defeat with a smile. The problem was that no matter how much the young man wanted her to simply leave his area, Jane was on a mission. "I need to talk to whoever is in charge around here?"

"We're having a private viewing of Jedediah Caesar's Soft Structures exhibit." Jane rolled her eyes at how aghast the young man was at her request. "I am certain she's fairly busy and we'll never find her in this crowd."

"Here's a suggestion," Jane's eyes fell on the radio clipped onto his belt. "Why don't you talk into that and ask her to come to the front."

Jane bounced on the balls of her feet while she waited. The longer she stayed at the entrance the cooler the night air seemed to get. The wind picked up, blowing her hair while her eyes scanned the crowd taking in small details that most would disregard. It was a habit she had developed as a beat cop; one that she had perfected as a Homicide detective.

_Always be on your game, Rizzoli; never let your guard down._

Jane's thoughts were interrupted as she focused on a shorter woman standing before her. She had leaned over talking quietly to the young man who was guarding the door and then nodded and smiled at Jane. She motioned with her head for Jane to follow her inside. Once inside and away from the bustle of the front entrance, the woman turned around and offered Jane a shockingly genuine smile; it was certainly different than the one the guard had given her.

"Is this business or pleasure?"

"I'm afraid mostly business." Jane flashed her badge once more despite the fact that the woman hadn't asked for verification that she was, indeed, with the Boston PD. "I'm Detective Jane Rizzoli, Boston PD."

"'I'm Jennifer Smith." Jennifer extended her hand politely but shook Jane's hand strongly to indicate a forceful personality. Jane smiled; she could just hear Maura's voice reciting facts about how a handshake depicts one's personality and the various types that could occur between two people. "What do you do for Boston PD, Detective?"

"Homicide."

"Interesting, since you said this is mostly business. Did something happen here I need to know about?"

Jennifer Smith seemed nervous now; Jane was certain that it was simply because a murder investigation tonight of all nights meant bad publicity for her and for her artist.

"I'm sorry to take you away from your exhibit, but I need to ask you a few questions if you don't mind. You can try to relax a little; it's hardly newsworthy enough to ruin your evening."

"Am I that transparent?"

Jennifer Smith motioned for Jane to follow her as she journeyed down a private hallway. The longer they walked the less noise Jane could hear, thankful for the respite from the crowd. Jennifer stopped at a large mahogany door and, using a key, opened it up gesturing for Jane to enter the private office.

The office was modern, yet reflected archaic works in the form of paintings and a few sculptures. They were tactfully placed throughout the room, the colors blending in with the shades of worn leather which covered the office furniture. Jane took a seat while Jennifer crossed over to sit behind her desk, a rather large piece that was meant to be the focal point of the room.

"What can I do for you, Detective Rizzoli?" Jennifer folded her arms across her chest as she stared at Jane expectantly.

"Have you seen this painting before?" Jane removed the photograph from her pocket that she had found in the bottom of Patrick Doyle's box. She allowed Jennifer Smith to take it in her hand and study it; her brow furrowed in concentration.

"You do know there are hundreds of thousands of paintings right?"

"And I know you must have some education in them to run this museum."

"Paintings aren't really my expertise I'm afraid." Jennifer placed the picture on her desk rather than handing it back to Jane. She wasn't ready for the conversation to end just yet. "I'm a bit of a jack of all trades and an expert at none; that's the beautiful life of a museum director."

"Well I can certainly appreciate that, but I need to know if you can track it down. I believe the artist's name is Kathleen Brady."

"So you're asking me for verification of whether the artist is this Kathleen Brady or not?"

"For starters," Jane said. "Can you verify if it is her painting or not?"

"She's not an artist I've ever heard of." Jennifer picked up the picture once more and held it in her fingers. "Is she local to the area?"

"At one time yes, but I'm not sure anymore."

"Are you looking to purchase this piece? Because even if I can't track down this one we can certainly recommend ones that would compliment your taste."

"No." Jane was growing frustrated with the sudden turn in the conversation. She wasn't often on the answering side of an interrogation.

"Detective Rizzoli," Jennifer took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing. "I think we'd both be better served if you can tell me what you actually want then."

"I need to find this out if this is Kathleen Brady's painting and if it is, where she is."

"Determining whether or not this is a particular piece by an artist is actually rather hard, Detective, especially when she isn't a known artist. It all depends on if it was shown in a gallery or not; if it was created for a personal collection and not seen before, given she's not a large name in the industry, it could be virtually impossible to determine if this is her piece. It isn't as easy as being able to look at something and recite facts about it."

_You have never met Dr. Maura Isles, obviously._

"What if it's hanging in a museum or gallery somewhere?"

"Well, then determining who the artist is becomes easy; but their location may not be as forthcoming. If the gallery bought the piece outright they might have their bill of sale that lists the address where they got the painting. But that doesn't mean it is her address now; if another gallery owned it or a private collector that would be listed on the bill of sale. If it's on commission, well then that's the easiest."

"Because you'd have to know where to send the money?"

"Everyone wants their pay, Detective. How old is the piece?"

"No clue," Jane answered honestly as the frustration she was feeling reflected in her eyes. Jennifer saw this and felt a rush of sympathy for her; obviously this piece was rather important and likely for personal rather than professional reasons.

"What can you tell me about it?"

"Not much," Jane pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off the pain developing behind her eyes. "I came here because I wasn't sure where to start."

Jennifer leaned back and rocked slowly in her chair. She stared at the photo for a moment before placing it on her desk and meeting Jane's gaze with her own.

"I've got a few friends that own galleries that might have some idea where to look. I'll ask them if they have something from Kathleen Brady as well or is this just about finding her rather than this painting?"

Jane sat straighter and allowed a small smile of gratitude to appear. "Her, it's about finding her more than anything."

"Detective," Jennifer's voice was cautious, "don't get your hopes up. It really is a needle in a haystack. She's not a famous artist, she might not be local anymore, and this may be her one and only painting. I'll give my friends a call tomorrow; I can't make any promises."

Jane handed Jennifer her business card and stood up, stretching out her legs. She smiled as Jennifer took the card and then shook her hand once more; she knew it was a long shot but she had to take it for Maura. Maura deserved to find her mother, to know her, and hopefully it wasn't too late for that.

Jane exited the office to begin to fight the crowds of people that were conversing over various pieces on display. She fought back the urge to roll her eyes as people started commenting on the price of the pieces and not their beauty.

_Just like Maura's mom's bottle thing – junk that becomes art because someone slaps a large price tag on it and calls it that._

Jane finally managed to make her way to the front of the museum and arched her eyebrow to challenge the young man who was still manning the door. He looked around nervously, refusing to meet her gaze causing Jane to start chuckling on the journey back to her car. Jane was thankful for the silence of her car; she had already felt the crowd was overpowering and her headache wasn't getting any better. She silently weighed her options. She could return to headquarters and continue to pour through the box that Doyle had assembled for her, she could return to headquarters and pretend to be working while silently fabricating excuses to visit the morgue in the hopes of seeing Maura, she could go home and sulk waiting for a call on her fishing expedition, or she could drown her sorrows at The Dirty Robber.

_There really is no choice, Rizzoli, drown yourself in beer._

The drive to the Robber was uneventful and she was thankful that it was quick. It seemed all the traffic that usually plagued the streets had halted; Jane laughed as she silently thought that perhaps all the cars were parked at the museum. Jane parked her car in her usual spot and walked inside, blowing into her cupped hands to bring them warmth.

Jane forced herself to smile when she saw Korsak, Frost, and Maura all in their normal booth nursing their various drinks.

"You made it." Korsak poured Jane a beer from the pitcher and offered it to her with a smile. "I wasn't sure if you got my message."

"I didn't," Jane sat down and ignored the various quizzical looks she was receiving from her friends. "I just stopped in to have a beer."

"We all needed a break," Frost said throwing back the rest of his drink and signaling for another. "One more file and I would have lost my damn mind."

"Me too," Maura chimed in.

"No offense but you losing your mind is very different than Frost losing his."

"Why is that?"

"Yeah," Frost said, "why is that, Jane?"

"Because you have a rather large brain, Maura, that can retain almost every single factoid that you come across. Frost is…." Jane paused looking at Frost crossing his arms over his chest in defiance.

"Armed and dangerous?"

"Young and pretty?" Korsak and Jane laughed at Korsak's jab.

"Barry does have amazing eyelashes," Maura beamed with pride at her contribution.

"I'm still armed and dangerous."

"Did you guys find anything new?" Jane opted to change the subject.

"We found a bunch of files telling us what bad guys we already knew they were. We found dust mites at the bottom of the box and now I found an empty pool table if you'd care to make a wager on your earlier statement that you could kick my ass in pool, Frost."

Frost wagged his eyebrows in Jane's direction and then stood to follow Korsak to the table. Jane was thankful for the silence, despite knowing that it wouldn't last long.

"I was surprised that you were gone when I went upstairs to call it a night."

Jane nodded as she sipped her beer in silence. Maura was fidgeting; she was nervous about the conversation she was about to approach but knew she had to push forward.

"I didn't tell you that it wasn't going away to have you run away," Maura offered quietly.

"I'm not running."

"But you're also not telling me how you feel, Jane."

"We kissed," Jane lowered her voice as she spoke about their intimate moment. "My tongue in your mouth wasn't conclusive enough for you?" Jane smiled as she marveled at her ability to make a joke in almost any serious conversation.

"Well if that was my only indication than I'd say you feel rather euphoric regarding the kiss."

"It was a joke, Maura," Jane gulped the rest of the beer already feeling relaxed. "Why do you insist that we keep talking about it?"

"Why do you insist that we don't?" Maura paused only a moment before continuing. "You can imagine how hard it is for me to read you; you're not very forthcoming and frankly I find that disconcerting. Normally if someone kissed me I would ask you what it meant. You would guess at their feelings and I would accept it as gospel because you're more experienced at…."

"Humans. At least live ones?" Jane smiled as Maura considered her answer that continued her point.

"Emotions….and you have no issue guessing at the feelings of others but won't reveal your own?"

Jane closed her eyes and balanced her head in her hands. She took a deep breath and then exhaled, preparing herself for the unavoidable conversation.

"I don't know what I'm feeling, Maura. I don't typically kiss my best friend."

"Well I think that goes for both of us." Maura placed her hand over Jane's in an effort to reassure her. "I just am less bothered by it than you appear to be."

Maura took comfort in the fact that Jane hadn't bothered to move her hand; it was the most contact Jane had allowed since the kiss at the cabin.

"Why is that, Maura?"

"I would suspect it is a combination of things. I would venture to guess that my knowledge of human sexuality and the Kinsey scale puts things in perspective for me, perhaps it is because I studied abroad for so long and truly sexuality and the expression of it is far more open there than here in the United States. Maybe it could be that I trust you; if I'm honest with myself I've come to understand that I love you, Jane, and that kiss could just simply be a manifestation of that love."

"Love me, or _love__me_?"

"Are you just repeating yourself now?"

"Maura, there are a bunch of different loves!" Jane was now feeling the tension develop in her neck and between her shoulders. "I love you too, but I don't know if that means that I should have kissed you back."

"Is this because I'm a woman?"

Jane sighed; she had known that Maura being a woman was a rather large part of her dilemma and inability to process the kiss.

"If it's because I'm a woman, Jane, in this day and age that is somewhat small-minded to limit yourself solely to the outer edges of the Kinsey scale. Very few people are either a 0 which indicates someone is exclusively heterosexual or a 6 which is an indication of exclusively homosexual."

"Will you please keep your voice down?" Jane prayed that nobody else was listening.

"The numbers in between are merely degrees of sexuality that can change over time, Jane."

"So are you saying you're firmly in the middle of the scale, Dr. Isles? I can remember a time when Dr. Ian was the love of your life and I'm pretty certain he has a penis."

"He most certainly does," Maura chuckled when Jane made a look of disgust. "But I didn't fall in love with him because he had a penis. I fell in love with him because he is intellectually stimulating and I truly am proud of him and admire his work."

"Well we know that wasn't the case with Giovanni," Jane laughed as she poured another glass of beer from the pitcher. "He's not intellectually anything…."

"But he was hawt." Jane spit her beer out at Maura's spot on imitation of Giovanni. She truly was developing a rather keen sense of humor.

"So you're really not bothered by the fact that you kissed me?"

"I'm bothered more about the fact that it appears to have affected our friendship and I just…"

Jane watched as Maura blinked back tears. She covered Maura's hand with her own and waited patiently for Maura to finish her sentence, patience being yet another thing that Maura had taught her.

"You're my best friend, Jane, and I don't want to ruin that. If something added to it, that would be one thing, but I don't want to take away from it."

"You didn't ruin it," Jane said leaning back in the booth. "It's just hard for me to understand what I'm feeling."

"Why?"

"Because every time I look at you I remember that kiss. It would help if I could figure out how I felt about it."

"You'll talk to me? If you need help?" Maura finished her chalky red because standing on her designer heels allowing her to tower over Jane who remained sitting. "Just don't shut me out, Jane, please."

Once Jane nodded her head in agreement, Maura leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on Jane's cheek. Jane watched as Maura waived her goodbyes to Frost and Korsak and sauntered through the door to the outside. It was then that Jane exhaled the breath she was holding and closed her eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

Author's Note: Happy New Year to everyone! I know it has been a few 'days' since I've posted, when I was on such a roll, but the holidays crept in and I've been busy ever since. So, I finally got a chance to sit and relax; I wanted to use the time to finish up this previously started chapter. I love some of the post season finale fics that are coming out, that episode caused me stress! I just don't have a good feeling about the outcome of that one….so hopefully moving this story along will bring a lighter possibility for our two lovely ladies. Enjoy!

Chapter 18

Jane walked at a brisk pace from her parking spot to the front entrance of the Boston PD headquarters. She noted that the usual sidewalk congestion was missing; it was too early for others to be heading into work. Jane entered the station and smiled at the guard who stood post at the entrance.

"Another early body, Detective?" Jane liked Officer Reynolds; even after he refused to let her into the station when she returned after shooting herself, not yet cleared for duty.

"If it were only that easy." Jane scanned her badge and made quick work of summoning the elevator. She hit the button once and when the elevator hadn't instantly appeared, she hit it several times in a row hoping it would speed the process along.

"I actually don't think it comes any quicker if you pretend more people are standing there pushing the button." Jane refused to turn around and acknowledge the overly helpful Officer Reynolds.

The sound of the elevator's bell announcing its arrival seemed to echo through the silence caused by the absence of the usual morning bustle at the station. Jane smiled smugly as she stepped into the elevator and turned to face Reynolds. She let out an exasperated breath as the doors came to a close.

_What the hell does he know?_

Jane stepped off the elevator on the Homicide floor and walked directly to her desk. She unlocked her bottom drawer and retrieved the few files she had studied the night before, frustrated that they seemed to all be dead-ends.

"Why the random notes?" Jane studied various pieces of paper that were shoved into a manila folder that didn't seem to belong with any of the other files.

Jane pulled out account information from a local bank; it frustrated her more knowing she couldn't use it. Without a reason to obtain a warrant, the bank had already informed her that their obligation was to their account holder and not the police. Patrick Doyle had enough forethought to set the account up in a different name, one that Jane could not produce a death certificate for and without giving up their entire investigation and how they got the information in the first place, she couldn't obtain a warrant to force the bank into cooperating with her. Lacking a warrant to poke around the account forced Jane into facing yet another dead-end.

"Please tell me you haven't been here long?" Frost was surprised to see Jane at her desk so early in the morning. Normally, he beat her to work by at least thirty minutes.

"What time is it?"

"Close to 8:00." Frost sat down and fired up his computer as he regarded Jane carefully. "Any leads?"

"No, not one. All of the people he gave us information on are either dead or already in jail. It's like some sick game from the grave."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Frost agreed as he typed in his password and began to open various programs on his computer.

"There's some pattern to it, Frost," Jane stretched in her chair. "We're missing the logic in what he handed over to us. There's a lead here; he carefully selected these files."

"Where did you run off to yesterday anyway?"

"The Museum of Fine Arts." Jane glared at her partner when he broke out into laughter. Frost finally settled down when he met Jane's gaze, her eyebrow arched and a smile obviously missing from her face.

"Sorry." Frost cleared his throat and fiddled with his tie. "I just didn't expect that answer. What were you doing there?"

"Tracking down this painting." Jane held up the picture of Maura's birth mother's painting.

"The one from the bottom of the box?"

"My gut tells me we need to find this painting. It is more important than we know."

"Any luck?" Frost pushed his chair on its wheels toward Jane's desk and took the photo from her hand, staring at it.

"I've got the Director of the Museum of Fine Arts working on it," Jane lowered her voice as people began to enter into the bullpen. "It's off the record of course."

"Any chance it'll pan out?"

"She made me feel like I had a better chance of staying dry while pissing into the wind of a tornado so I'm trying to figure out Plan B."

Frost laughed as Jane rose and tucked the photo into the back of her black dress pants intent on heading down to the morgue to pay Maura a visit.

"I'll be in the morgue if something comes up. Can you see if there's a chance to use the account information we have to pull up any ATM withdrawals so we can start to plot out any patterns in the withdrawals?"

"Sure thing." Frost realized he was talking to the back of Jane's head while she waited for the elevator, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The elevator made the short descent to the morgue and Jane pushed through the doors to the morgue instantly scanning the area for Maura. She saw her in her office, perched on the corner of her desk looking through a file in her hands. Jane quickly made her way through the morgue and into Maura's office, watching her as she frowned at whatever she was reading.

"A body I don't know about?"

"Not one of yours." Maura turned the page and continued reading while Jane flopped down into one of most uncomfortable chairs she had ever encountered. "This is a report from Dr. Pike; it's like reading through a story that's missing half the pages."

"Aren't you going to comment on my punctuality today?" Maura looked up to see Jane beaming with pride.

"You have no coffee."

"Why don't you seem shocked that I'm actually here before 8:30 which is the earliest I've ever been in on a slow day?"

"First, I heard you crash through the doors. Secondly, I heard you walking like a one-woman army across the morgue to my office. Stealth you are not, my friend."

Maura sat down in her chair, closing the file on her desk to regard her friend sitting before her. She smiled, disarming any of Jane's comebacks, and leaned back in her chair content with her small victory over the usually sarcastic and witty detective.

"I didn't realize payment in the form of coffee was required to come visit my LLBF."

"Usually not but, based on your excessive pride over being here on time, I thought today was a good day for firsts." Maura smiled, thankful that their easy banter seemed to be back despite the 'kiss tension' that lingered between them. "Did you have difficulty sleeping, thus making the wise decision to arrive to work on time today, or is this you turning over a new leaf?"

"Perhaps I am turning over a new leaf." Jane couldn't help but smile when she realized Maura was laughing at her weak attempt to explain her unusual behavior. "I didn't sleep well; stop looking so smug."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Please tell me this isn't a continuation of the conversation at the Robber last night."

"What would be so bad about that?" Maura smiled to try to keep things light but hoping to build on the small amount of information Jane did share with her last night. Maura waited, seeing the patented Jane Rizzoli exasperated look come over her face and then laughed once more, deciding on changing the subject. "Fine, any new developments on your unmentionable case?"

"I'm not a genius as you are, Dr. Isles, but doesn't the adjective _unmentionable _actually mean we shouldn't be discussing it?" Jane's voice was soft, intimate, and Maura forced herself to ignore her physical response to it.

"I'd like to help, if there's something that you want me to look over for you."

"Even if I was working on an unmentionable case, and I'm not saying I am, if that case involved someone that someone else could claim had a connection to you that made you less than objective it would compromise anything that you did help us with in terms of leads."

"Jane, I actually am a genius and couldn't follow that grammatically challenged and confusing sentence."

Jane's attention was drawn to the door as Frost and Korsak entered Maura's office. Frost handed Jane a Post-It note with an address scribbled on it.

"That is an address," Frost lowered his voice as Maura's staff began to enter the lab to begin their day. "It showed up in a few arrest files that Doyle put in the box. Since it showed up on a file with one of his chosen few and then there was a disturbance call made to that address, I checked it out. It's titled to a Patrick Selsi."

"It's his house," Maura said quickly recognizing the name. "He used the anagram with me when he came here to say goodbye to Collin. He told me his name was Selsi, which is Isles spelled backward."

"The disturbance call was because it had been sitting vacant for awhile when one of the neighbors saw some activity there. They called in thinking it was being broken into or homeless people were starting to reside there."

"What happened?"

"Officer report stated that they checked it out, but the person they spoke to produced a title with the same name on it. They let it go."

"Let's check it out." Jane felt a surge of hope as she stood quickly and exited the morgue.

The ride to the house was quick; the house was located no more than twenty minutes from the station. Jane marveled as they drove the familiar streets that despite the fact that Patrick Doyle was a known crime boss, he lived relatively close to all the places where cops were known to be. Hiding in plain sight seemed to work for him.

The house wasn't much different than the South Boston home Paddy had died in. The house blended in nicely with the others in the subdivision; Jane walked around the back to see if there was an inconspicuous way to enter the house and not draw attention to the neighbors who obviously took notice given the previous disturbance call. Korsak and Frost followed, signaling with head nods and hand motions that they needed to ensure the house was clear before entering. Jane un-holstered her weapon and signaled for Frost to look into the windows. He saw no movement and they followed Korsak into the house when he kicked in the door. The team made quick work of clearing the house, the upstairs was checked, various rooms downstairs, and finally the basement which proved more difficult to clear given the stacks of boxes.

"Where do we start?"

"Stay together," Jane said as she approached the stairs. "We'll start on the main level and work from there."

Jane climbed the stairs and walked down the hallway, stopping quickly as her eyes rested on a painting hung on the wall. The brush strokes, the bold colors, the details that a photo just simply couldn't pick up were now before her eyes.

"It's the painting," Jane whispered as she dug in her pocket for the photo in question. She took it out, holding it next to the large scale painting to allow her eyes to compare the two side by side.

"It's the same one, Jane."

"I know this is important," Jane said as she lifted up the bottom of the painting to check underneath. "Let's get it down and see if there's anything behind it."

Jane and Frost removed the painting from the wall, setting it on the floor leaned against the wall for support. Frost knocked on the wall, listening for variations in tone, and declaring nothing was in the wall behind it.

"It seems legit, Jane, nothing is behind it unless it's buried in the wall."

"No safe, nothing written on the back of it." Jane's eyes looked at the frame. "Let me get my connection from the artsy community to come take a look before we dismantle it."

"You think something is in covered up by the frame?" Korsak asked. "Maybe painted into the canvas as a clue or something?"

"I actually think that it's Maura's mother's painting."

Jane ignored the look of surprise on Korsak's face as she searched for the number to the Museum of Fine Arts. The automated system proved mildly annoying to Jane as she managed to finally connect to Jennifer Smith.

"Detective Rizzoli, I thought I was supposed to contact you when I had something?"

"I found the painting," Jane announced as she fought to ignore the surge of hope that fluttered in her stomach. "So now I just need someone to come take a look at it and give me their expert opinion."

"Well as previously discussed, I'm not an expert in paintings. Why don't you tell me where it is and I'll ask my friend who was working on this for you to stop by and take a look at it?"

Jane gave her the address, complete with instructions of where her friend was to park and what door to knock at when he arrived. As they waited, they went room to room gathering evidence and taking pictures with their phones. It didn't seem long, despite patience not being a strong suite for Jane, before she heard a soft knock on the door leading to the backyard.

Jane looked outside, hand on her gun, scanning the area to ensure it was only the short gentleman whom Jennifer had described to her. He looked annoyed; he straightened his designer coat and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses while Jane opened the door.

"Are you Martin Jones?"

"Are you expecting someone else?" Martin pushed his way past Jane and into the house, clearly annoyed at having to be there. "Jennifer told me you needed a few moments of my time; just so you know this repays a debt I owe her so I don't have a lot of time."

"I actually don't care why you're here, only that you are. I need you to look at a painting and answer some questions for me about it. Think you can spare the ten minutes that will take?"

Martin forced a smile as he signaled with his hand that Jane should lead the way.

"Have you seen this painting before?" Jane motioned to it leaning against the wall. "I need to know the artist for starters."

"No, and no I don't know the artist."

"I'm going to need more than that I'm afraid." Jane caught Martin by the arm as he turned to walk away. "Anything stand out about this painting to you as unusual?"

Marcus looked at it in silence; he moved the painting away from the wall looking at the back of it as well. He touched his well manicured finger to the edges of the canvas, then running it over the frame taking in the intricate detail, then leaned it back against the wall and met Jane's gaze.

"The canvas is precut," Martin stated with a discernable amount of annoyance in his voice.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that they were bought in bulk, not just for one artist. A single artist buying their own canvas would have it stretched or stretch it themselves. And it would likely be linen, this one is cotton."

"How many places sell precut, cotton canvases, Martin?"

"Only about a million." Martin flashed Jane a sarcastic smile and she had to hold herself back from throttling him right there. This was worse than pulling teeth. "Cotton, precut canvases are usually used to teach classes." He paused looking at it once more, walking back and forth, before speaking again. "Although I wouldn't expect such broad strokes and perfection from a student. The frame is handcrafted; the details couldn't be produced in mass. This is a unique frame, simply for this piece."

"Do you have a way to narrow down where it would have been painted then?" Jane asked. "Anything distinguishing the frame to a certain area?"

"I believe you're the detective, right?"

Jane growled underneath her breath, catching Martin's attention. He stood a little bit straighter, fidgeted with his glasses once more, and then stepped closer to the picture to examine it more thoroughly.

"The frame has a symbol on it; see this lighthouse with the sun shining on it?"

Jane leaned in closer, squinting as she struggled to see it. She had noticed it before, but simply had no reason to believe that it was anything other than another carved design to accent the frame itself.

"I've seen that before when I vacationed in Provincetown. There's a group there responsible for P-Town tourism, it's their symbol."

"I wonder if the other symbols mean something?"

Frost began to take pictures of the intricate details and began tapping away on his iPad to begin to look them up. It didn't take too long for him to show Jane another match.

"That one in the corner, with the paper, is the symbol for the town of Provincetown. You just can't see the incorporation detail or precise detail like you can in this one on their site."

Jane looked at the symbol on the home screen of the official website of Provincetown. She looked back at Martin who quickly spoke up to indicate that he had nothing else to offer; the rest would be detective work.

"I'm done here, nothing much more in the house that will offer us a clue," Korsak said as he stepped toward the group once more. "Anything on the picture?" Jane looked surprised that she hadn't even noticed Korsak step away from the group to process the rest of the house.

"Likely framed, at least, in Provincetown," Jane said as ideas twirled in her head. "Frost I'll need you to take pictures of the rest of the symbols and see if something else comes up."

"Where do we go from here?"

"You're going to see if any of the handful of symbols matches anything else," Jane said. "I'm going to Provincetown to see if I can find Maura's mom."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Jane jumped at the sound of her apartment door being flung open without so much as a single knock to announce a visitor. Her hand instinctively slid to the holster on her hip as she turned. She stood straight, abandoning her packing efforts momentarily, to lock gazes with Maura.

"Come in." Jane couldn't help the corners of her mouth turning upward to hold a smile. "I didn't actually hear you knock."

"That's because I didn't." Maura placed her hands on her hips firmly; clearly something had upset her.

"That was kinda my point."

"I see Barry wasn't wrong." Maura's eyes fell on Jane's duffle bag, which had obviously been stuffed to maximum capacity. "Would you care to share where your impromptu trip is taking you?"

"I'm sure _Barry_ already told you so wouldn't that make the question rhetorical in nature?" Jane's obvious pleasure with her answer irritated Maura even more.

"He said you were going to Provincetown." Maura slowly walked further into the apartment closing the door behind her. "I was certain that Barry was mistaken. Surely you wouldn't just suddenly disappear on a vacation without telling me." Jane smiled at Maura's newfound ability to utilize sarcasm. "But I appear to be wrong, you are going somewhere."

"Yes, I am." Jane held her ground crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

"To Provincetown?"

Jane nodded silently as Maura began to pace in front of her. Maura's designer heels slowly echoed off of Jane's wood flooring and Jane suddenly became a bit light headed as her eyes focused on Maura's well-defined calves pacing before her.

"Remind me to thank _Barry_ for his sudden interest in my life," Jane continued.

"Really, Jane?" Maura stopped pacing and mimicked Jane's pose by folding her arms across her chest. "Is this some personal variant of immersion therapy you're attempting?"

"What?"

"Is this really necessary? Wouldn't it have been easier to discuss this with me rather than act like an adolescent who has no idea how to manage her own feelings?"

"I'm beginning to feel like I've been insulted."

Maura stood her ground, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow in Jane's direction.

"That was an insult wasn't it?"

"You really can't be this daft, Jane. I've tried to discuss what happened between us, I've given you space to try to work through your feelings, and your mature response is to run away?" Maura scoffed as she turned and began pacing once more. "And of all places, to Provincetown?"

"Daft? Did you really just use the word daft?" Jane asked, smirking. When her only response was a glare from Maura, Jane shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to get away?"

"Since when do you 'get away'? When we were at the cabin you couldn't wait to get back. Now you want to get away? And to what is often referred to as the most popular LGBT destination on the East Coast?"

Jane let out a deep sigh and then turned to zip up her duffle bag, freezing in mid-zip when Maura reached out and grabbed her hand to still her movements. Her eyes briefly lingered on the bag in front of her before she dared to look at Maura.

"So the question stands, is this sudden trip to Provincetown about you trying to figure out your feelings? Is this some way of experiencing the lifestyle to see if it appeals to you?" Maura asked.

"Do you honestly think it would be that easy to go away for a weekend and simply decide the rest of my life?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to think at this point. I know that you asked for time to sort out your feelings and I've tried to accommodate that. I know that it seems that this has created a distance between us that, quite frankly, frightens me. It feels like you're shutting me out and that is the last thing I wanted to happen. I really need you to just talk to me, Jane."

"It isn't that simple," Jane replied as she turned her attention back to the stubborn zipper on her duffel bag.

"I actually don't think it's that complicated," Maura answered honestly as she sat down on the couch next to Jane's bag, defeated. Jane quickly zipped the bag up and threw it on the floor, sitting next to Maura to engage in the conversation she had avoided since their time at the cabin.

"Fine." Jane placed her hands on her thighs to still their visible trembling. She had avoided this for long enough; Maura was right, they needed to talk.

"I'm sorry?"

"We should talk about the kiss." Jane swallowed hard, fighting a sudden bout of nausea. She forced herself to stare straight ahead ignoring Maura's obvious pleasure with their pending chat. "Why do you look so happy about this?"

"I'm happy that you're willing to finally talk to me about this. And because I'm tired of living stuck at a crossroads," Maura answered honestly; Jane was thankful that she was going to seemingly take the lead in the conversation. "I kissed you."

"I'm aware."

"And…." Maura placed her hand on Jane's thigh as she raised her voice to signal her intent to continue. "…I don't regret it."

"I told you at the Robber that I normally don't go around kissing my best friend." Jane closed her eyes momentarily struggling with the words forming in her head. "Maybe what I should have told you is that you've truly been my closest friend and so kissing you is that much more stressful."

"Stressful?"

"You really can't be that _daft_ for a genius," Jane chuckled as she mimicked Maura's earlier rant. "I'm a hard person to date, Maura. I'm a hard person to get close to."

"You seem to have acceptable social skills. You get along reasonably well with your co-workers and…"

"People see what I let them see. They know what I let them know."

Maura sat silently, taking in what Jane had offered. She waited as Jane seemed to struggle to form her thoughts.

"What are you afraid of?" Maura asked quietly.

"Losing you," Jane answered with no hesitation. "We work together."

"So this is about my position as the Chief Medical Examiner?"

"No." Jane was exasperated and ran her fingers through her hair. "We 'work' as in you're likely the closest person to me and I'm afraid of losing that." Jane looked at Maura who seemed to be trying to process Jane's admission. "It's like that game show, where you have something sure in one hand and a curtain blocking out what you could trade it in for. How do you know what's behind the curtain is better? Sometimes the person trades in something really cool for something Ma would collect!"

"You're likening our relationship to Let's Make A Deal?"

"You do watch TV, Doctor Fancypants!" Jane teased, distracting herself from her building anxiety.

Maura scooted closer to Jane, allowing her hand to massage Jane's thigh as she spoke.

"Most relationships are built on the same foundation, Jane," Maura said carefully. "They all have the same building blocks that lead to success; the absence of one or more of those blocks leads to failure."

"This is gonna be good…."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Jane pushed the urge away to roll her eyes at the turn in the conversation.

"I think we communicate very well when you're acting like an adult," Maura smiled and then added onto her thought for good measure. "Even when you act like a child I can usually tolerate the abuse."

"I'm barely tolerating this lesson."

"We have common interests, common bonds, we understand one another better than most married couples I know. We trust one another. We feel safe and comfortable with each other."

Maura turned and faced Jane, taking Jane's hands into her own and forcing herself to focus on Jane's intense eyes.

"My point is that we already have that strong foundation, Jane."

"I don't shove my tongue down my other friend's throats, Maura…foundation or not."

"So why am I different?" Maura was fearful of pushing too far, but needed to clear the air between them.

"You kissed _me_," Jane said smirking. "Let's not forget that shall we?"

"But you kissed me back and have we forgotten that I'm an expert in facial coding recognition and body language?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that when I looked at you afterward, I could see the kiss had affected you. And I could see how aroused you were, Jane." Maura knew she had to push just a little bit more to further the conversation. "Are you aroused by your other friends?"

"So that's it?" Maura felt slightly panicked when Jane closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "We've got a great foundation and I reacted to the kiss so I should just run to sleep with you and everything will be fine?"

"We've slept together before, Jane."

"Not in the way that I'm thinking about now," Jane admitted and met Maura's gaze once more. "You're not even the tiniest bit afraid of losing our friendship? Not to mention how people will act when we tell them we're in a relationship, if we even chose to tell people?"

"The only difference between the day before I kissed you and the day after I kissed you is that you know I'm attracted to you, which is something that _I've_ known for a long time but never said. I find you gorgeous, intriguing, and the person that I want to spend most of my free time with. Nothing else has changed."

"Not yet anyway."

"Is this about me being a woman or your friend?"

"Both," Jane admitted quietly. "I don't want to lose our friendship. What if we're great friends and horrible partners? What if things don't work out? And I certainly don't want to put on hiking boots and buy a pick-up truck!"

"Perhaps a trip to Provincetown would help dispel some of the stereotypes you seem to believe." Maura offered. "I'm hardly suggesting we sky-write an announcement of our relationship or ride on a float in the next pride parade."

"What _are_ you asking?"

"Are you attracted to me?"

Jane's eyes glared at Maura with the patented Rizzoli stare.

"Are you just fishing for compliments now, Maura?"

"Are you attracted to me?" Maura was more insistent, refusing to yield in her questioning.

"Yes." Jane stared out in front of them, refusing to meet Maura's eyes.

"Then all I'm asking right now is that you give it a chance," Maura said sympathetically given Jane's rigid posture. "Heterosexual relationships aren't that different from homosexual ones, Jane. We'll have the same issues and argue about the same things you did with any other person you've dated I'm sure."

"Well, then we're doomed right from the start."

"And I'm not asking that we circle the field either at this point…"

Jane looked at Maura puzzled, cocking her head once more in confusion with her brow crinkled.

"The field?"

"We don't have to run all the way home until we both are comfortable sexually with ourselves in these new roles and with each other given our current dynamic."

"Are you talking about getting to first base?"

"I would hope, as adults, that we'd get past first base. I suspect we could easily hit a triple if we're as good together as I think we are."

"Stop it." Jane held her hands up to silence Maura. "You're not only butchering the metaphor but insulting baseball fans across the country at the same time."

"You're uncomfortable discussing physical intimacy with me but you're willing to run to Provincetown? What were you hoping to accomplish there, Jane?"

"No," Jane said wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. "Despite the fact that you're beginning to think the world revolves around you, I had a lead in Provincetown on a case and was going to follow up."

"Without Frost, your partner?"

"And just for the record, going to Provincetown wasn't some huge pilgrimage to embrace my inner-lesbian, Maura. I haven't even made up my mind if that's what I am actually."

"Labels are so restricting," Maura agreed patting Jane's leg. "It's best to not force definitions on things but rather act upon feelings and emotions in relationships. It's why most fail; stereotypes in any sexual relationship can be stifling."

Maura paused seeing Jane's body language reveal how uncomfortable she was with the current conversation.

"This isn't just about a case is it?"

Jane shook her head no; taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

"I didn't want to tell you this, get your hopes up, because honestly it could be nothing and I could be chasing ghosts at this point…"

Maura just stared at Jane, silently wishing she would continue her thought process.

"I may have a lead on your biological mother," Jane said quietly. "But I needed to follow up before I told you so I didn't crush your hopes if it didn't pan out."

"You've been looking for my mother?"

"You weren't getting anywhere….I have that gum-shoe thing I do….I just…"

"What's in Provincetown, Jane?"

"At a minimum, a place that framed some of her art."

"But you think it's more?"

"I have no way of knowing until I get there," Jane admitted.

"Well then I'm going too," Maura said standing up abruptly. "If you're taking a mini-vacation I certainly have enough time banked to take a few days."

"You're coming to Provincetown with me?" Jane swallowed, suddenly feeling panicked.

"Well if it's a lead on my mother, of course!" Maura headed toward Jane's door to leave and begin her packing ritual, but turned around with a smile on her face. "Plus it's the perfect place to start dating you. What better place than the gayest place on earth to start a relationship!"


	20. Chapter 20

Jane stood on one of the renowned beaches in Provincetown watching the boats in the distance as the wind tousled her dark, curly hair. It was truly surreal to be standing on a beach enjoying the view given all that was going on in Boston. Nearly as bizarre was the fact that she made finding Kathleen Brady her priority rather than sifting through the evidence Patrick Doyle had given her.

"That took longer than I thought." Jane turned to see Maura approaching her. Maura placed her hand on an old wooden fence as she slipped one designer heel off and then another, leaving them by the fence before moving to stand next to Jane. Maura looked out toward the horizon and smiled at the picturesque scene before her. "It really is beautiful. It's certainly worth the time invested getting the reservation to be staying in the B&B right off the beach."

"No investment was needed, Maura," Jane sighed. "I had a perfectly fine hotel."

"Not anywhere near as close to the beach or town. If we want to pass as tourists for our undertaking, it would help to act the part and enjoy all that Provincetown has to offer."

"You sleep and shower in a hotel, I hardly think it matters for our _undertaking_." Jane focused back out on the horizon. "And what exactly do you mean by undertaking? This isn't Mission Impossible."

"You should focus on the beautiful scenery, Jane, it might relax you." Maura watched as a fishing boat journeyed across her line of vision before disappearing around the bend. "Did you know that the Revere Guest House was built in the height of Provincetown's reign as a thriving fishing port?"

"Fascinating," Jane mumbled as she turned to see Maura with a beautiful, pure smile on her face.

"Thought originally to be built as a Captain's home, it was turned into an Inn in the late 1960's to accommodate the tourists that flock here during peak season."

"Hmmm," Jane just grunted to pretend she was listening rather than focusing on her decision to bring Maura to Provincetown. It felt like everything was changing; the whirlwind of it all fascinated and terrified Jane at the same time.

_This could be your heaven, Rizzoli._

"It was remodeled in 2004 but they took great care to ensure that none of the original historic nineteenth century character was lost. You should see the inside, Jane; it's a perfect balance of modern convenience and historic charm."

_Okay, so heaven but with Google talk._

Jane nodded still deep in thought until Maura reached her for hand and laced their fingers together while leaning her head on Jane's shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Jane jumped at the sudden contact almost knocking Maura over onto the sandy beach.

"Holding your hand." Maura gripped tighter as Jane tried to release her hand. "I thought you might allow yourself to be in the moment."

"I'm in the moment." Jane heard how defensive her voice sounded. It was unfair of her to not be honest with Maura; Jane had reservations about being in Provincetown. It felt like a magical getaway where none of the pressures of being 'out' mattered. Jane knew all of those pressures and fears still existed back in Boston when they returned. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to find your birth mother so we can get home and focus on the rest of Doyle's case."

"Do you honestly think we'll find her here?"

"I'm not sure." Jane turned to see the wind blowing Maura's hair and the sunlight bouncing in her eyes. "I have a gut feeling about it, despite you not putting much stock in my intestines."

"I trust your intestines more than anyone's if that helps. Mine are telling me that this is going to lead to another road to travel, which will lead to yet another. I don't think this is going to be a sprint to the finish line, Jane; this is likely distance running, of marathon proportions." Maura ended with a sigh.

"You can't get discouraged." Jane hesitated only momentarily before tucking a stray hair behind Maura's ear. "You're closer than you've ever been before, that has to count for something."

Jane instantly felt her fingertips tingle; she certainly wasn't ready for an in depth discussion on her feelings and especially not here, in what had to be one of the most romantic places she had ever been to. The romance wasn't about ambiance, candlelight or secluded places to hide with a lover. There was simply a calmness and acceptance that made Jane feel even more drawn to Maura.

"Somehow being here with you is anything but discouraging," Maura replied, her voice was low, husky, and timid all at the same time. Her hazel eyes locked with Jane's gaze and she felt her heart quicken. "Maybe we can go out for dinner tonight and start fresh in the morning?"

"Why not start now?"

"Because I was hoping for a night to just enjoy Provincetown." Maura's honesty was always unwavering. "I was hoping to have some time for us to talk; maybe we could even be daring and discuss us?"

"Let's not get carried away, Dr. Isles."

Jane turned on her heel and headed toward where Maura had left her shoes. It was the exit off the beach closest to their car; Jane wanted to get settled and begin looking while the galleries were still open.

"Where are you going?" Maura called out seeing Jane several steps ahead of her. "Are you going to wait for me?" Maura scrambled to gain her footing in the sand. When she caught her, she paused only slightly to grab her designer heels. "You don't have to run, Jane."

"I'm not, I simply have long legs." Jane opened the car and took out both her bag and Maura's before heading toward the Inn. "A Rizzoli trait you seemed to admire, if my memory serves me well."

"Touché," Maura laughed as she took her small carry-on bag from Jane's hands and allowed Jane to carry the other two pieces of luggage. "You're heading in the wrong direction."

Jane turned around and watched Maura nod to a discrete staircase hidden within the garden area of the Inn.

"We have a private entrance. I rented Room Eight so we'd get a better view of the bay and sunset. It's right off the rooftop deck."

Jane looked up and saw a large patio decorated with two chaise lounge chairs and a table in between. It would provide the perfect view of the sunset over the bay and she smiled despite her original annoyance at changing hotels.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Maura asked when she reached the top of the stairs and unlocked the door holding it open for Jane to enter their room with the bags. "It also has a fireplace, a whirlpool tub, and an amazing skylight that allows the natural light to shine in when the sun rises."

Jane took in the scenery; she mentally catalogued the various pieces of furniture, the décor that managed to be both simple and elegant at the same time. The room was bright; Jane's first thought was that the brochure Maura had read from minimized the effect of the skylight on the room. The light beat down on a small, floral patterned love seat that was strategically placed before a gas fireplace. Further into the room, opposite a wall of windows, was a queen-sized bed that completed the room nicely.

"The whirlpool is in the bathroom area," Maura pointed out as she watched various emotions flicker over Jane's face. She recognized happiness, but then saw a small bit of anxiety coupled with Jane's normal habit of biting her lower lip. Maura walked past her to investigate the bathroom area and simply brushed her hand across Jane's back in an effort to ease her tension. "The concierge recommended Commercial Street for a relaxed dinner. Apparently that's where all the stores are as well as the nightlife in Provincetown."

Maura placed her overnight bag on the counter and exited the bathroom stopping in the doorway. There, sitting on the bed staring out of the windows, was Jane. Her shoulders were rigid, her breathing more shallow than usual and, not that Maura needed additional clues to her demeanor, when Jane wiped her palms on her jeans Maura knew she was nervous.

_She'll never survive a discussion about us if she doesn't relax._

Maura sat on the corner of the bed, careful not to sit too closely to Jane. When Jane turned to her and smiled, Maura returned it in spades.

_How on earth did you get here, Rizzoli?_

"Is it the room?"

Jane's eyebrows shot up in surprise before she cleared her throat to enable her to speak.

"No. No, the room is amazing."

"You seem extremely nervous since we walked into it."

"I'm not nervous," Jane said quietly as she forced herself to hold Maura's gaze. "This room is obviously amazing and you know you have great taste, Maura."

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Jane." Maura placed her hand on Jane's thigh and let out a nervous breath when she realized that Jane wasn't going to pull away.

"What makes you think I need help?"

"Because your posture is rigid, your breathing is shallow, and your facial expressions are classic nervousness or fear."

_Damn her and her facial coding system._

"So that takes us back to my original question," Maura continued, "what is it that seems to have you on edge?"

"I feel like everything has changed," Jane admitted shocking both her and Maura with her frankness. "This is like a dream, Maura. Provincetown isn't reality for us, Boston is with our jobs, my family, our co-workers."

"When I said we should take advantage of Provincetown, Jane, I didn't mean I'd take advantage of you," Maura teased gently, hoping to keep the mood light enough for Jane to stay open. Maura stood and walked to the desk directly across from the bed. She sat on the corner, thankful that Jane remained sitting facing the windows as it made it impossible for her to avoid looking at Maura. "I don't think Provincetown is much different than our daily lives in Boston."

"We're sharing a bed, Maura."

"We've slept in the same bed several times, Jane."

"Twice," Jane answered curtly with a forced smile. "We slept in the same bed twice. Once when a completely psychotic serial killer was after me and once when you fell asleep meditating because I somehow stressed you out after _you_ posted a lesbian profile for me to attract the attention of a killer."

"So if we were being stalked and had the potential of being killed by a crazed local lesbian you'd feel better about this?"

"I'm glad to see you've learned a little from your studies at the Rizzoli School of Sarcasm, Maura."

"Nothing needs to change right now, Jane." Maura noticed how rigid Jane's posture became at the mention of imminent change. "This can happen at whatever pace is comfortable for you. For me, it's already changed. Even if I could go back and pretend that kiss never happened, I'm done ignoring my attraction to you."

"So that's what this is about? Just attraction?" Jane got up and began pacing; another hint to Maura at the pent up nervous energy she was feeling.

"I think you know better than that," Maura offered. "It's about very much more. But the attraction and the potential of acting on that attraction seems to be a major source of concern."

"How do you even know you're attracted to me?" Jane paused only briefly, throwing out her question before returning to pacing the length of the room.

"Is that what this is about? You think this is impulsive for me?" Maura cocked her head at Jane.

"It could be; it could be an infatuation."

"Jane, do you really believe I would have even broached this with you if I hadn't thought it through completely? Do you think I would be pushing you to trust me and to put your feelings on the line if I wasn't sure how I felt? And when have you ever known me to be brash and impulsive?"

"Then what changed, Maura?" Jane stood her ground, complete with crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

"Time." Maura remained calm, which seemed to add fuel to Jane's fire. "The more I got to know you, the more I realized that I loved you. Love takes on many forms, Jane; that's why I suggested we work together during this time away to define what works for us. I just have to be honest and tell you that I can't go back; I won't pretend I don't have feelings for you."

"Which could be classified as feelings one would have for a best friend," Jane offered. "You yourself told me you never had a best friend; maybe you're confusing the feelings of LLBFF's for something more."

"Are you?" Maura arched her eyebrow to challenge Jane. When no response came, she felt even more empowered to push on. "I know what you felt when we kissed, Jane. I felt your reaction, your desire."

Jane remained silent for a moment and then visibly relaxed, slumping on the bed. Maura fought the urge to view the move as Jane's surrender.

_It's the small victories, Maura, that win the battle._

"Let's just say I had a reaction…" Jane began. Looking up, she saw a look of disappointment cloud over Maura's features. Jane growled under her breath; she didn't want to hurt anyone in her attempt to define her own feelings. "Ok, I had a reaction to kissing you; you're beautiful Maura. Both inside and out, despite the fact that you Google Mouth me to death."

"So you admit that we are both attracted to one another?"

"I admit I am attracted to you," Jane corrected.

"And I can tell you 100% unequivocally that I am attracted to you; inside and out."

"So where do we go from here?" Jane asked, slightly frustrated. "Do we pretend that nothing in our lives exists or matters back in Boston so that we can have this escape of Provincetown? And what happens when we go back? Our lives aren't in Provincetown where a relationship between two women is accepted, Maura."

"We live in Massachusetts, Jane, that's a far cry from the conservative, bible-belt states that don't allow gay marriage."

"Now you want to get married?" Jane's voice rose quickly and Maura couldn't help but laugh at Jane's leap in the conversation.

"No, I'm simply proposing that we share dinner and then share this room," Maura smiled warmly. "Maybe this is a good place for us to get comfortable with one another. We can act like we would on any other date and see where it goes."

"Oh god no, please tell me what's wrong with me ahead of time instead of ruining my dinner." Jane laughed at her own joke some of her tension easing.

"Well there's always a chance that we won't get that far in the meal before you scare me away with your detective persona that you use as a means to hide your insecurities and lack of ability at being open with other people. Very few people would actually put up with your abuse."

"We're some pair aren't we?" Jane chuckled softly as the humor of the comments wore off. "I don't always scare people off; I have asked for help occasionally and let people in."

Jane watched as Maura arched her eyebrow in question and immediately felt the need to defend her position.

"I showed up at your house the night Hoyt was looking for me did I not?" Maura nodded; having already catalogued that night in her mind it was no surprise that Jane would start there to argue her case. "When I had a nightmare about that boy that had the voodoo mother and the vase was broken on my floor; I called you then." Jane paused, a look of realization crossing her face. "My god do I always go to you when I need help?"

"It appears so." Maura did nothing to hide her smirk having felt special the times that Jane did come to her for help. "Maybe that's another reason why we're good together? We can lean on one another."

"Another sign of LLBFFs."

"Does it count that we spend an awful lot of our spare time with one another even after we've worked a full day together on a case?"

"Arguably best friend material."

"I don't kiss my best friends, Jane," Maura said softly, letting her eyes drift down to Jane's lips and then back up to her eyes slowly. "I don't have palpable sexual tension with my best friends."

"Well there's that." Jane's tongue darted out of her mouth quickly to wet her lips. Her eyes roamed Maura's body; she was absolutely perfect and before Jane recognized her defenses were crumbling, it was too late. "I don't fantasize about my best friends, male or female. Ever since that kiss I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

"Nobody said you had to," Maura responded.

"I'm not just some horny teenager. I tend to think of the consequences of wanting you."

"Why does there have to be consequences to loving someone?"

Jane laughed despite herself, "Maura, you really are so pure at times; there are always consequences to loving someone. In this case, we both have a lot to lose."

"Maybe I think the risk is worth it, knowing how much I'd have to gain."

They were at a stalemate; neither woman willing to completely meet in the middle with compromise and yet neither ready to give up on their arguments pro or con of the relationship. Maura gave in; it always seemed when someone needed to call a 'time out' she was the adult who could do it between the two women.

"I'm going to change for dinner," Maura began, squaring her shoulders against any challenge from Jane. "We're going out for a nice dinner and frankly I don't care if it's the magic of Provincetown or just a vacation that allows us to be ourselves and try this dating thing, but we're going to go on a date, Jane. I think you'll find it isn't that scary."

Maura grabbed her suitcase and disappeared while Jane flopped back down on her back on the bed. She could hear Maura unzipping her suitcase and placing various things on the countertop likely freshening up her make-up and hair.

Maura opened the door to the bathroom and cleared her throat. Jane opened her eyes to see Maura leaning against the door jam watching her. Maura was dressed in a low-cut dress. It was emerald green, perfectly setting off her eyes, making them the most noticeable feature on her face. Her hair was causal; the wind had blown it and Jane assumed that Maura simply ran her fingers through it to have it fall back in place. Her heels were high; they perfectly accentuated her strong calf muscles and Jane felt a lump in her throat instantly. She swallowed, and then cleared her throat, and Maura turned around slowly with an expectant smile on her face.

"Do you like it?"

_You will not act like a horny teenager, Rizzoli!_

"You look beautiful," Jane's voice was husky, more so than usual, and it wasn't lost on Maura when Jane's pupils dilated. Her hands began to tingle as they rested next to her on the bed. Jane suddenly felt underdressed; she rose to her feet and stood before Maura, equal heights now that Maura had an advantage of four-inch heels. Jane licked her lips; her eyes never leaving Maura's as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Are you ready to go?" Maura's voice was barely a whisper; the tension between then blatant. "I didn't make reservations but we could just walk down to Commercial Street…."

Maura stopped thinking when she saw Jane's head tilt to the side, her eyes close, and her lips part slightly before touching them to Maura's in a passionate kiss.


	21. Chapter 21

Jane looked out of the window from their small, intimate table near the back of The Mews Restaurant & Café. She sat across from Maura, thankful to have bribed the assistant manager with a few dollars and her badge to commandeer a cancelled reservation rather than waiting an ungodly amount of time for a table to become available.

"Are you going to spend the entire time here flashing your badge to get what you want?"

Jane looked up to see Maura's eyes focused on the drink menu, but holding a twinkle nonetheless, as she pretended to be engrossed with her options.

"Are _you_ going to spend the rest of our time trying to decide on a drink?" Jane looked at the dinner menu and ignored Maura's head jerk up at her statement. "It's not world peace, Maura, just a martini. And for the record, if I hadn't flashed my badge we would still be waiting for a table in that ridiculous line of people out the door and I was hungry."

Maura looked around and saw various people scooting through the crowded establishment; some were in larger groups and some were like her and Jane, intimately sitting on the outer edge of the chaos and thankful for a reprieve from life.

"The concierge said they have award winning seafood dishes here. I'm going to order the seared four peppercorn crusted tuna with the Nantucket Express martini since it is a Mews original."

Jane looked up from her menu when the waitress came to take their order.

"Beer and steak." Jane closed the menu and ignored Maura's glare. "Rare on the steak and whatever the house special is on tap is fine."

Maura forced a smile in Jane's direction when the waitress focused her attention on taking Maura's order.

"I, for one, looked at the menu," Maura offered before pointing to her selection as she stared momentarily at Jane. "I'll have the Nantucket Express and the seared tuna please."

Maura made quick work of handing the waitress back the menus and then smiled at Jane staring out the window.

"Are you actually enjoying yourself?"

"I'm relaxing," Jane conceded as she leaned back, thankful when their drinks arrived quickly. She held her glass up and tilted it toward Maura to begin the first toast of the night. "Here's to finding your mother."

"I'll drink to that." Maura tipped her drink to her lips and took a dainty sip. Her eyes widened and a smile brought out her prominent dimples. "This is delicious. You really should try this, Jane."

"I'll stick with beer." Jane took a generous sip out of her own glass without breaking eye contact with Maura. "I wouldn't want to get drunk despite you promising not to take advantage of me in Provincetown."

"Ah," Maura sipped her drink daintily. "I should think before I speak; that wasn't very wise to say, now was it?"

Jane choked down her mouthful of beer trying to hold in the cough that so desperately wanted to escape.

_Way to almost choke, Rizzoli…and the night is still young._

"You're hoping to taking advantage of me?" Jane couldn't help her voice's natural progression to a higher octave based on their conversation.

"I'm sure you're attracted to me," Maura beamed as she flirted. "Your signs of arousal are classic, Jane; it wouldn't really be taking advantage of you."

"Oh really?" Jane arched her eyebrow to challenge Maura, it was clear she wasn't backing down from the conversation, a fact that excited Maura more than she cared to admit.

"You have increased cardiovascular activity as evident in your respiration." Maura lifted her glass to her lips and seductively took a sip while holding eye contact with Jane the entire time.

"We walked miles to get here."

"I suppose you would use that as a means to dismiss another classic sign of arousal which is flushed skin. Your chest area is blushing with color."

Jane frowned as she quickly placed her hand over her chest to prohibit Maura's view of her cleavage.

"Your pupils are dilated; it's almost like the deep brown of your iris is disappearing before my eyes."

"The lighting in here sucks," Jane replied, sipping her beer to hide her emotions. Maura was closer to the truth than she cared to admit at the moment, they hadn't even been served their food yet and that kiss was all she could think about.

"Since we kissed in the hotel, you've managed to wet your lips more than I think I've ever noticed before."

"Maybe you just don't pay attention to my lips when we're at home?"

"You can't really be that obtuse can you?" Maura's finger traced the rim of her cocktail glass as she leaned forward giving Jane an amazing view of her cleavage. "I've paid attention. You probably don't even realize that you're doing it, the show of tongue as a form of foreplay is subconscious. There's no shame in letting me know you want me, I want you too."

Jane leaned back to put some distance between her and Maura as their food was served. Maura practically squealed in delight as she tasted her fish. Jane blocked out the Google talk about how difficult it is to season tuna correctly while she enjoyed her steak.

"I have no idea how you can eat so poorly and maintain the figure you have, Jane."

Jane's eyes moved from her plate to Maura's face, the look of surprise etched in her eyes made Maura laugh.

"Who me?"

"I saw the CT scan of your heart after you shot yourself." Maura sliced into another piece of her tuna while talking. "You have practically no body fat to speak of and yet you eat some of the worst things for you. You really are lucky; genetics must be on your side."

"And we both know how much you love the Rizzoli mind and long bones."

"Joke if you will." Maura placed the tuna in her mouth and ate it before continuing. "I wouldn't have had to settle for Tommy and his _chess skills_ if you would have manned up and taken me on yourself."

The weight of that sentence seemed to sit between them. The humor of the conversation seemed to stall as Jane pondered that statement.

"You're right," Jane began, surprising her self when that statement left her mouth but she forced herself to continue. "If I'm being honest with myself, I've been attracted to you for a while, Maura. I just didn't know what to do with it until you kissed me and then…."

Maura waited with baited breath for Jane to continue her thought, the fact that she was opening up was electrifying to Maura.

"Well even now I'm not sure what to do with it," Jane laughed as Maura chuckled and placed her fork down near her plate.

"What do you want to do about it?"

"Pretend our real lives don't exist."

"What would that entail exactly?" Maura set her fork down, interested in Jane's response.

"It doesn't matter; we can't pretend real life doesn't exist, Maura."

"And I can't pretend that I don't want more from you." Maura paused briefly to gather her thoughts. "I want more _us_."

"You know me, Maura! I am not a...a..." Jane was searching for the right way to phrase her thoughts. "I don't sleep around casually, Maura. It took me years apart from Casey to even kiss him!"

"Maybe that had more to do with Casey than yourself?"

"Or maybe it has more to do with you than I want to admit to myself."

Maura's heart was racing; she felt intrinsically that this was the moment that would define at least the next few days with Jane. She wanted them to sway more toward the romantic than the friendship side of the spectrum of their relationship, but she knew enough not to push.

Maura made eye contact with Jane, refusing to yield in her appraisal of Jane's body language despite Jane's hatred of being analyzed in such a manner. All the symptoms that Maura had listed earlier were still present. When Jane's eyes met Maura's, her heart raced.

_This is it, Maura. You've got her._

"I want to go back to the hotel," Jane said so gutturally that Maura barely heard her over the commotion of the restaurant. "I'm tired of fighting myself; I want to be with you and yet I am so afraid of the talk, the looks, losing people in my life because of how I feel."

"We kissed, Jane, and you know what? You're still the same person you were before that happened, you're just more aware of yourself now that you're acknowledging your feelings."

"I'm enlightened." Jane's smile as she finished her beer was unmistakable. She pushed her plate back and the tension between her and Maura was blatant. She ignored her inner-doubts, making a decision to live in the moment rather than regret never knowing what it would be like to touch Maura. "Let's go back to the hotel."

Maura rose quickly, fishing out several bills from her wallet and throwing them down on the table. She knew she was being overly generous based on what she estimated their bill to be, but the moment was now here to move forward with Jane and she wasn't chancing any delay.

She grabbed Jane's hand; the moment they were outside she was practically running toward the hotel. The walk back to the hotel was quicker; Maura held Jane's hand as the silence stretched between them. As they rounded the corner to the private entrance to their room, Jane stopped and looked at the sun setting on the water in awe. The reddish hues bounced off the water to light the sky and Jane failed to blink until she felt Maura wrapping her arms around her waist from behind.

"It's beautiful," Maura said softly as Jane felt Maura's breasts press into her back. She was standing so close that Jane could feel her breath as it tickled her neck when Maura spoke. "I don't want to push you."

"But you're a lot more confident than I am right now."

"I don't know that I would agree," Maura smiled as she placed a gentle kiss on Jane's shoulder. "I just have an innate belief that we belong together."

Jane turned in Maura's arms to face her, a mixture of emotions clouding her face. She placed her hands on Maura's hips; her kiss was simple as she barely brushed her lips against Maura's but the weight of what was to come was evident for both of them.

"Really kiss me," Maura whispered as she deepened the kiss. Jane's lips served as an anchor as she ran her fingers up Jane's strong, muscular arms and tangled her hands in Jane's curly hair. Jane's moan wasn't the only sign of her arousal, Jane's breath grew shallow, her fingers tightened on Maura's hips, all directed Maura to move forward.

"Let's go upstairs," Maura offered, executing her suggestion by pulling on Jane's hand to guide her up the stairs. Maura took a deep breath to calm her nerves; her hands were slightly shaking and she was certainly not used to the feeling of them being clumsy. She opened the door, for once thankful that Jane used her foot to slam it shut because Jane's hands were already tangled in Maura's hair to pull her lips back toward her.

Jane watched as Maura unbuttoned her shirt, it was painfully slow, although she appreciated the moment to gather her thoughts and have her mind catch up with her body.

_This is really happening, Rizzoli, get it together._

Maura pushed Jane's shirt off her shoulders, guiding it down her arms. As she pushed the shirt down, then crouched down to complete the process, Maura gently leaned into Jane to brush her lips across her taut stomach. Maura reveled in Jane's reaction; her stomach flinched and she moaned as she weaved her hand in Maura's golden hair.

As Maura stood, she dragged her hands from the back of Jane's thighs up to cover her ass and then around to Jane's front, struggling with the button on Jane's pants. Jane reached around and unzipped Maura's dress, pushing it off her shoulders but barely heard it hit the ground when Maura's tongue dipped inside her mouth.

Maura stepped back, still struggling with Jane's button, but somehow gracefully stepping away from her dress. In only 4-inch heels, a black lace bra, and a black thong to match, Maura seemed larger than life.

"Maura." Jane barely recognized her own voice as it came out huskier than usual. Maura nipped at Jane's lips one again, Jane's plea falling on deaf ears as Maura could barely hear her over the pounding in her ears.

"Maura." Jane placed her hands on top of Maura's to stop their progression.

_Please tell me she isn't going to stop this now!_

"God you're so beautiful," Jane reassured Maura as she saw the look of angst fall upon her features. "It's just that…." Jane allowed her breathless chuckle to escape her lips before she continued, "…I've never done this before."

Maura saw the doubt cloud Jane's eyes and she ran her thumbs over the puckered skin where her scars stood out.

"It's just that I've never done this before, with another woman obviously, let alone someone that means so much to me. You said so yourself…people like Casey…."

Maura felt tears glisten in her eyes at the vulnerability Jane was displaying and smiled to reassure her.

"Don't worry," Maura leaned forward and kissed Jane on the lips. "It's ok; this is us, you and me, we'll create what works for both of us."

"Oh, well that makes me feel better." Jane's sarcasm quickly faded as her eyes glanced down at Maura's body. Maura's nipples were pushing against the fabric of her bra, and Jane's resolve quickly faded. Before Jane could react, Maura walked behind her and touched her lips to Jane's right shoulder blade, than the left. She leaned her forehead to rest against Jane's back between her shoulder blades as her hands moved from Jane's naked back to her muscular stomach.

Jane's head fell back; her body already was trembling but when Maura's hands traveled to her stomach and then dipped lower into her waistband, she wasn't certain her legs could support her.

_Frantic, Jane's frantic. She wants me as much as I want her._

Jane pulled Maura around to face her; her lips assaulting Maura's as she backed her toward their bed. Maura expected Jane's resolve to _eventually_ crumble. Their outright flirtatious behavior and honesty at dinner had set the tone for the night. But this wasn't slow, Jane had reached the end of her rope and her need outweighed any reservations she had when her thumbs dragged across Maura's nipples. Maura's legs pressed against the bed and she easily sat down, then pushed herself up toward the headboard as she watched Jane begin to descend upon her.

Jane kneeled on the bed; she kept her eyes on Maura's as she crawled toward her body and smiled as Maura's dimples appeared.

Maura watched as Jane pushed her pants down over her hips, easily kicking them off and discarding them onto the floor. Jane continued forward, settling between Maura's spread legs, grinding her hips into Maura's as she traced Maura's lips, still curved in a smile, with the tip of her tongue.

When Jane deepened the kiss, Maura's arms flew up over her head to grip the pillows where her head rested. She lifted her hips off the bed, desperate for more contact with Jane, and she opened her eyes when Jane's body moved off of hers and Jane chuckled softly.

"I want to see you." Jane urged Maura to sit so she could remove her bra. The detective's usually capable hands shook with nervousness; she struggled with the back clasp of Maura's bra causing her to laugh. "I can't get this off. "

Maura laughed as her hands reached behind her and undid the clasp, but she refused to remove it herself. It hung from her shoulders, preventing Jane's eyes from seeing what she so desperately needed to see.

Jane removed Maura's bra, she had not one care where it fell when she threw it to the ground. Her eyes darkened and Maura gasped as Jane moved slightly down her body. Jane was eye level with her breasts, she couldn't help but smile as they quickly rose and fell in time with Maura's quickened breath. Jane ran her hands around the sides of Maura's breasts, purposefully avoiding Maura's painfully hard nipples.

When Jane's fingers touched her nipples, Maura thought she would literally come apart. She moaned, biting her bottom lip, as her body arched up to meet Jane's touch.

"Yes." Maura tried to pull Jane's head toward her nipple once more, but Jane easily grabbed her wrists and pushed them away. She was reveling at the effect she had on Maura; it provided her a sense of confidence she had lacked just moments before. "Just you and I…"

_You're reading my mind, Maura._

Jane's lips covered Maura's hard nipple and her tongue began to play across it. She took her cues from Maura; when Jane lightly teased her nipple, she heard Maura's shallow breath. When she sucked on it what could have been considered roughly, Maura arched into her and gasped. When Jane let her teeth pinch Maura's nipple, she felt Maura's fingers tangle into her hair and her voice beg for more.

"God, Jane, please."

Jane focused her attention on Maura's other nipple as she began to feel her own body ache with need for the woman beneath her. Maura wrapped her strong legs around Jane's waist pulling them closer together; Maura seemed completely comfortable with the fact that her arousal was wetting the skin on Jane's stomach. This seemed so right; there was no exchange of power in their foreplay, just the presence of mind to read one another's reaction.

_This could easily become habitual and never get old at the same time._

Maura blocked out all other thoughts other than her need to touch Jane. She squeezed her legs around Jane's hips as she flipped them over, allowing her to be on top of her wonderfully aroused detective.

Maura quickly removed Jane's bra and lightly touched her tongue to Jane's hard nipple.

"Jesus," Jane hissed as her body twitched in response.

Maura smiled as she Jane's body shook; the anticipation was intense.

"Adrenaline rush," Maura smiled at Jane's questioning look. "It's why your body is shaking."

Maura ran the palm of her hand over Jane's damp underwear and then rested it comfortably on Jane's pubic bone. Maura loved this reaction, loved to have Jane for once be more submissive and not overly confident. This glimpse of Jane was rare; Maura knew she would cherish it always.

Maura traced her fingertip around Jane's bellybutton. She swirled it around the area and then progressed further down toward Jane's aching center. Maura dipped that sole finger under Jane's waistband and moved it back and forth; covering every inch of skin just below the waistband.

Jane struggled to gain some control over her shaking body, the tingling she felt caused by Maura's skillful fingers was something she had never experienced before. She wanted Maura; nothing in the moment could change that, no doubts about reactions of friends and family members, just sheer pleasure.

Jane put her hand over Maura's and tried to force it down between her legs. Maura looked up and smiled at Jane, her dimples having a familiar calming effect on Jane and she took a deep breath to slow herself down.

"I've waited too long to rush this, Jane."

Maura dipped her head closer to Jane's muscular stomach; her breath was gentle on Jane's skin. When Maura's nose touched just above Jane's bellybutton, Jane hissed her response as her body became taut like a bow.

_How could I be this aroused and she hasn't even taken off my underwear yet._

Jane marveled at Maura's next movements; as if she could read her mind when she hooked her fingers under Jane's waistband and worked her underwear down her legs and off her body slowly. She placed a chaste kiss on Jane's thigh, then licked her way back up Jane's body to her previous position.

Jane squirmed, moving her legs closer together than further apart, anything to get Maura's attention to her throbbing center. Jane closed her eyes when Maura's strong hands began to gently massage the skin of her right thigh. Jane allowed her legs to part, falling down to the bed, but Maura made no attempt to take advantage of it.

When Jane reached for Maura's hair, she ducked out of the way by lowering her lips to Jane's inner thigh. Jane arched up to look at Maura, to see what she had planned for her, needing the ache between her legs to be released.

"Damn it, Maura," Jane growled as Maura's relentless teasing continued.

Maura laid her head against Jane's thigh, smiling as Jane wound her hand in Maura's golden hair. It was a simple gesture, one that allowed Maura to revel in the moment of having Jane under her spell. It was a moment where they both needed reassurance; Maura needed to know Jane wanted her to continue as they both understood there would be no turning back. Jane needed a moment to gather her thoughts, to understand that Maura was about to claim her with her mouth, and that they would do this together.

Maura smiled as she moved her hand from Jane's outer thigh to her center. Jane grabbed at the sheets around her, desperate for an anchor to hold her in the moment.

"Just you and I, Jane," Maura whispered as she settled herself between Jane's outstretched thighs.

Maura tongue slipped slowly out of her mouth to touch Jane's hard and throbbing clit. Maura ignored Jane's audible gasp, even her growl, as she applied more pressure with her tongue to Jane's center. She tasted amazing; all scientific reasoning on the effects body chemistry left Maura's mind in favor of savoring something that tasted as unique as the woman beneath her.

"My god, Maura, I need…."

Maura took Jane's swollen clit into her mouth and began sucking on it. It was exactly what Jane needed; her hips arched in response and she moaned as her breath quickened to signal an orgasm fast approaching.

Jane was wet; her arousal was completely evident to Maura's eyes as she opened them and pulled her head back slightly in an attempt to savor the moment. When Maura began to suck on Jane's clit once more, she felt Jane's body tense and arch off the bed as Jane fell over the cliff to orgasm.

Maura continued; torn between continuing to make Jane come with her mouth and wanting to watch. She quickly replaced her mouth with her fingers so she could watch Jane unravel.

"Maura," Jane growled through clenched teeth as her breaths came in shortened gasps and her hands grabbed onto Maura's shoulders. Maura drew it out as long as she could; it wasn't until Jane tried to yank her hand away that Maura understood how much time had passed and how sensitive Jane's body was.

"You're so beautiful." The compliment rolled off Maura's tongue easily as she watched a bead of sweat travel from between Jane's breasts, down to her stomach, and disappear off to the side.

"Oh my fucking god," Jane barely whispered as she blinked her eyes rapidly to try to bring the room into focus.

"Is your vision back to normal?" Maura tried to hide her smile by kissing Jane's outer thigh but opted to lick the salty sweat off instead.

_Every part of her tastes amazing._

"You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Whatever for?" Maura failed miserably at hiding her proud smile as Jane pulled her up on top of her to kiss her lips.

"For unraveling me in a matter of moments."

"Oh, is that what happened?" Maura giggled as Jane ran her hands up and down her back and then grabbed her, flipping them over.

"Paybacks are hell, Maura."

"I'm counting on it Jane."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

The sun streamed through the room gently waking Maura from her sleep. She stretched, unaccustomed to her muscles aching from the vigorous activity she had engaged in the previous night. The smile on her face spread quickly at the memories of her night with Jane; the way her touch had unraveled Jane causing her to scream in ecstasy. As if the memory of Jane's reaction wasn't enough, Maura remembered her own response to Jane's touch. The way that Jane touched her was more than Maura could ever have imagined. She hadn't expected Jane to be so sensitive; she was attentive as a lover. Her fingers were soft yet firm at the same time, the memory of how it felt when Jane's scarred palms caressed Maura's hard, sensitive nipples sent a rush of heat through Maura's body. She pushed herself up on one arm to look at Jane who, at some point during the night, had turned her back toward Maura firmly planting her body against her during the night.

"Are you going to stare at me all morning?"

"Are you pouting that I got to be the _big spoon_?" Maura's voice was laced with pride at not only her joke, but her demonstration of dominance over Jane.

"I always knew you'd be an annoying morning person." Jane's voice was husky when she first spoke in the morning. Maura had already known this; their two sleepovers were enough for her to deduce that Jane's voice always cracked with the first words out of her mouth.

"I'm trying to show you there are other states of the mind than grouchiness in the morning. As Lemony Snicket once said, 'Morning is an important time of day because how you spend your morning can often tell you what kind of day you're going to have.'"

"Did you actually watch a Jim Carrey movie?"

"Did _you_ actually just admit to imagining my demeanor first thing in the morning?"

"Who would name someone Lemony anyway?"

"It's a pen name, Jane." Maura brushed a piece of hair off of Jane's forehead while continuing her train of thought. "Although, in his books he does appear as a character, which means we can refer to him as both a fictional character and real person."

"I'm aware, Maura, he is most known for 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' and my own series of unfortunate events started by allowing myself to be Google mouthed about literary characters first thing in the morning."

"We can always talk about how I managed to be the big spoon?"

Jane growled under her breath but made no attempt to pull away as Maura's finger traced the curvature of her eyebrow. She rolled over onto her back and opened one eye to look at Maura. The sun caused her to squint, her eyes sensitive to the morning light, making Maura's features slightly blurry until Jane balled her fists and rubbed her eyes vigorously.

"Must we talk at all?"

"Well there are other things I could think of doing right now." Maura leaned in and ran the tip of her tongue over Jane's slightly parted lips before snuggling down into the covers to be eye to eye with her now lover.

"Thank god one of them is not talking," Jane said with a smile. "In my fantasies you're certainly doing better things with your mouth."

"So you admit to having fantasies about me?"

Jane rolled her eyes at the glorious smile that overtook Maura's features. She truly was beautiful and despite it being early in the morning and the whole Lemony Snicket debate, Jane couldn't resist Maura's disarming charm.

"Yes." Jane shut her eyes hoping the conversation could end there.

"Did I live up to your fantasies?" Maura couldn't help the insecurity that crept into her voice.

Jane's eyes flew open and she studied Maura's features. Despite being eye level with one another, Maura's eyes were focused anywhere but Jane's. Jane reached out and ran her finger over Maura's bottom lip, still slightly swollen from their passionate kissing the night before.

"You surpassed every fantasy I've ever had." Jane cleared her throat. "And I don't just mean sexually, Maura." Jane's voice held none of the patented Rizzoli sarcasm, no roughness to hide her innermost thoughts and feelings. But when Maura looked into her eyes she saw something that she quickly identified as fear.

"You're afraid."

"Well good thing I have a big spoon to keep me safe."

"What are you afraid of, Jane?" Maura was a patient woman; she could easily outlast Jane. She knew Jane would crack long before her patience would wear out, but the thought of their night together causing Jane fear was almost too much to bear. "Is this when you tell me last night was a mistake?"

"No, this is when I tell you that I wish we could stay here in the land of flannel and softball forever and not go back to real life." Jane sat up, clutching the bed sheet to her chest. "But we can't; we eventually have to face the reality that despite the fact that this is… amazing, an entirely different life waits for us in Boston."

"I know." Maura did little to hide her smirk or the sarcasm dripping in her voice, "I couldn't even imaging being in a relationship with a female in the most gay-friendly place in America."

"We don't live in Disneyland, Maura."

"Where gay marriage is not only recognized, but celebrated among the community so that couples can walk down the street hand in hand and not be ostracized," Maura continued undeterred.

"If you start singing 'It's A Small World After All' I will smoother you with a pillow."

"I have no doubt you'd try," Maura laughed at the incorrigible look on Jane's face. "I thought we agreed we were going to take it one step at a time? I haven't asked you to marry me, Jane."

Jane groaned and slid down further into the covers reminding Maura of a petulant child.

"You've obviously let being the big spoon go to your head. And when did you become a person who flies by the seat of their pants? Unless blood is seeping out of a major artery in someone's chest you call it a reddish-brown stain!"

Maura was a planner; she had no way of denying that. She was proud of her ability not to jump to conclusions and be one of the few to analyze and make decisions on facts. But this was new territory, she found herself more inclined to accept feelings and act upon them when it came to Jane. Letting go felt glorious and Maura refused to let Jane pigeonhole their relationship before it even started.

"Maybe I started flying by the seat of my pants because you've somehow become cautious and fearful."

Maura's mind instantly flashed back to the previous night. She hadn't planned it at all; in fact she had assumed they would return from dinner and discuss the plan to finding her mother. But Jane's arousal couldn't be controlled anymore and Maura certainly hadn't resisted.

"I'd say flying by the seat of my pants worked well last night, wouldn't you?"

Maura couldn't contain her laughter anymore when she watched Jane yank the covers down to scowl at her. "It was actually very easy to let go last night; you were easier to read than I thought you'd be."

"We're not discussing this," Jane mumbled as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"You're not particularly vocal with what you want, but an attentive lover can easily deduce what you like if they pay attention to your breathing patterns or when you lift your hips off the bed to meet…."

"_Maura_," Jane growled to halt the conversation.

"All I'm saying is that obviously my new approach seems to work well." Maura allowed her smile to grow when Jane looked deep into her eyes. Maura's fingertips massaged Jane's shoulder, traveled down her arm leaving a wake of goose bumps in its path, and came to rest in Jane's own hand so she could intertwine their fingers. "Given that we're here and took an intimate step in our relationship, coupled with the fact that we're on a quest to find my biological mother, perhaps there are more changes on the horizon to force me out of my comfort zone."

"You look more than comfortable, Dr. Isles." Jane arched her eyebrow as a grin spread across Maura's features like a Cheshire cat. "I'm bracing myself for the news that you're going to buy a power drill next."

"Although I'm sure you're making some sort of lesbian reference," Maura chuckled as she placed a chaste kiss on Jane's lips, "I can most certainly assure you that between you and I the bets would be on you to be more apt to wield power tools. You certainly looked comfortable walking around in P-Town yesterday."

"I was actually following up on leads to find your mother." Jane struggled to force herself to be open and share her feelings with Maura. "But I want…I need…to take it slow, Maura. I'm not surprised that things were so…." Jane struggled with the right adjective to describe her night with Maura but they all seemed to pale to the reality.

"What?" Maura laid her hand on Jane's arm encouraging her to talk.

"Amazing?" Jane's voice raised an octave as she guessed at words to best describe what had happened between them. "That seems like such a stupid word to describe what happened."

"What about miraculous?"

"My, Dr. Isles, your big brain is obviously now residing in a big head."

"Jane, you don't have to describe anything," Maura touched her hand to Jane's chest over her heart. "I knew when I kissed you that it wasn't going to go away. I knew because this was so much more and last night just confirmed my hypothesis."

"Now I'm reduced to scientific theory?"

"No." Maura paused as she stared into Jane's endless brown eyes. "Now you've managed to show me that we're different from anyone else and there's nobody else in the world I'd want to be with right now, even if this never happened and we were only searching for my mother."

Jane couldn't handle the sincerity in Maura's voice, the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she revealed her feelings. Jane pulled Maura to her chest, running her fingertips down Maura's naked back.

"I want to find your mother Maura," Jane said sincerely, closing her eyes relishing in Maura's leg draped casually over hers. "That's a lot of change for you in such a short time though."

Maura was touched at how concerned Jane was about her stability. It was always so important to Maura; her routine had been perfected over the years and brought her comfort. She looked at things purely. There were very few shades of grey until she met Jane Rizzoli. The strength of Jane's arms gave her the courage to voice her innermost fears.

"What if we find her and she doesn't want a relationship?"

Jane's fingers stopped her soft caress while she thought about the answer. When she had mentally chosen the words a few moments later, despite it feeling like an eternity to Maura, her fingers once again began moving and she cleared her throat to speak.

"At worst, you have the answers you've been looking for almost your entire life. You'll have a chance to ask her why she gave you up and not have it be tainted by Paddy Doyle."

"And at best?"

"You find Someone else who absolutely loves you with everything that they are and will ever be."

Maura didn't say anything as she settled in to listening to Jane's heart, oblivious of the single tear that journeyed down Jane's cheek. For in that moment, Jane knew she'd never love another; she just needed to know what to do with it now that she couldn't turn back.


End file.
